A Mage's web
by Synchromesh
Summary: A young aspiring healer finds herself tossed into life. Adventure happens. Follows Modryn Oreyn's roll in the fighter's guild and the mage's guild quest line before the player arrives. Then toss in a lost vampire. Sound fun? It is.
1. Chapter 1

**A Mages Web.  
Chapter 1**

**Morndas, Second Seed. 3E 432.   
Water's Edge, Cyrodiil.**

The early morning light was just beginning to filter through the gaps in Eduard Retiene's shutters. Just enough for Darromesh to distinguish the varied supplies scattered on the rough clay floor of the small modest house.

Roughly, but quietly, she packed her worn travel bag. Not caring whether or not her lunch was squished between her "Manual Of Spellcraft" and "Fundamentals of Alchemy" texts. She blinked hard at the tears of rage and viciously shoved her mortar and pestle in the pocket of space she created between her tattered clothes. All the while she was muttering under her breath.

"Bloody drunken cur…" More random items were shoved into the pack.

"I'm just not going to put up with it anymore… I'm not." She found there was no room left for "Notes on Racial Phylogeny" so she started, angrily, pulling things out to make room for the book.

Wiping tears away again she noticed a shadow fall over her shoulder. Tilting her head and sniffling out a greeting she waited for her foster father to say something. Anything.  
She heard the soft shuffling of rough clothes as the man knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Mesh… what is it this time?" He spoke gently, but she could read the exasperation in his eyes. This wasn't the first time she's sat in the middle of this room throwing random items into her bag.

"It's those fetchers at the White Stallion Lodge… again." She gave a weak sigh. How many times now has she said those exact words? Too often to count.

"Look, why don't you just get a job somewhere else? There's plenty of -" He was cut off abruptly by a snarl from the young white dunmer girl.

"NO! This time I mean it." She paused to wipe the tears. "I'm going to be a healer. A famous healer! I'll… I'll be rich and you and mum will be able to move to the Imperial City and live in a nice house. No more mucking out stables." She stood up straight and puffed up her chest, daring her father to challenge her goals.

"Hmmm…" Her Breton foster father had an odd look to his face, contemplative; yet there was an odd upwards curl to the corners of his mouth. "Famous and rich, just like that one healer… what's his name…?"

"Oh, ummm… Well, I don't think I know the names of any famous healers." She scrunched her white nose up in thought, trying to think of whom her father could be referring to.

"That's my point, Luv. There are no rich and famous healers. Healers are healers because they want to help people. Is that what you want to do?" He didn't sound mad, as he usually did when she threatened to run away, but he sounded firm. She had a decision to make and for once she felt he was behind her.

"Yes, that is what I want." As soon as the words left her lips she felt better. Relieved that a decision had been made, that she was finally doing something to solve her problems.

It was almost mid day when Darromesh finally arrived at the gates of Leyawiin. She passed through the open city gates and tilted her chin up slightly at the stares from the two guards on duty. Nothing could ruin her day now. She had the blessings of her parents, even though they weren't her real parents, she still felt it was important to honor and respect their opinions and advice. Of course, this was made all the easier when they agreed with what she wanted.

She smiled; spotting the Great Chapel of Zenithar just ahead, she put a light skip into her step.

The big oak doors were heavy and swung open with a creek. She stepped in and blinked trying to adjust her eyes to the dim interior. An Imperial man was walking towards her through the haze of coloured light filtering through the large tapered stained glass windows.

"Greetings Altm-… Dunmer?" He stammered a moment and then started again. "Greetings. I am Kantav Cheynoslin, primate of Zenithar. How can I help you?" Mesh ignored the initial slip up over her race, it happened all the time. It must be confusing to see a milk white Dunmer walking around. She smiled and tucked a strand of short white hair behind a pointed ear.

"Umm… I'd like to be a healer." She stated with a nod.

"Ah. You'll be wanting to speak with Silana then, she's our healer." He was about to turn and lead her to the back when he abruptly turned back to face her. His eyes ran up and down her length and she felt rather self-conscious under his scrutiny. He offered the girl a smile as she drew her shoulders in to ward off his gaze.

"Forgive me, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but Silana charges a base fee of 100 septims per training session. Depending on the level of training, of course." He paused a moment and continued. "This is… I mean… do you have the means to pay her for her services?" He waved his hand out in front of him waiting for a reply.

Mesh's hands instinctively went to the pockets of her travel pants. She was suddenly aware of how she must look. She was wearing grubby green sack pants and a flax tunic. All of which were covered in the dust from the road.

She wasn't carrying what little gold she had in her pockets; it was all in her pack. She might have enough for one training session, but not much more then that. She looked up at the Imperial and shook her head. He seemed to realize her problem; he smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. She eyed the hand suspiciously but remained still. The Imperial man took no notice of the subtle protest.

"Not to worry, my dear. Why don't you go join the fighter's guild, or the mage's guild? There's good money there. You can come back in the evenings for training. I'll put in a good word for you with Silana." He smiled again, blissfully removing the hand from her shoulder. She nodded in reply and smiled at his kindness. She hoped it didn't look as strained as it felt.

The decorative double doors to the mages guild closed gently behind her. She was facing an open foyer. A Nord woman emerged from a room to her left and smiled.

"Hello there. I'm Agata. Do you need something?"

"I'm looking to join the mage's guild. I'm half decent with alchemy. Restoration is my passion though. Oh, and I know a little conjuration. Do you think you could use me?" She looked hopefully up into the woman's clear eyes. She smiled back.

"Oh, we could always use another set of hands around here, but you'll have to talk to Dagail about it, she's the archmagister here." Darromesh found herself ushered into a large study on the upper floor. After the initial introductions and a quick interview she was signed into the mage's guild as an associate. The aged Altmer woman closed her book and put down her quill.

"Ah, my dear child. A recommendation is something you seek. The key to your future, no less, do you consider it. I can help you in this quest of yours. You will learn skills needed to turn your key." Mesh shuffled her feet and smiled, not quite knowing what to say to such a statement. She waited for the other to continue. "I speak of potions. You will learn the secrets of many ingredients. But first, perhaps you could help me with one little problem…"

**Morndas, Second Seed. 3E 432.  
Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

The sound of the small crackling fire mixed with the smell of fried eggs and tomato were making Modryn's stomach growl. Fiddling with a stick he poked the little fire that was nestled in the circle of stones that was his cooking pit just out back of his house.

He leaned back against the boulder and absently used his poking stick to scrape mud from the bottom of his boots. Deciding his eggs were done, or at least that he was done waiting, he lifted the pan from the fire and made short work of his morning meal.

He had a lot to get done at the guild this morning, so couldn't afford to relax and enjoy the sunrise. He stretched his legs out and tossed the pan down next to the fire pit. At least with the tight schedule he didn't have to do the dishes. They would have to wait. He stood up stretching and put his iron cuirass on and strapped on his steel mace giving it a bit of a wiggle to get it in place.

He made his way around the back of the chapel to the fighter's guild. Stepping inside he went to work getting the place ready for the day. He unlocked all the doors and opened the shutters. He started the fire in the old wood stove and put the kettle on. One of the few luxuries the guild master afforded them was a bottomless pot of coffee.

He stumbled a moment, on his way to the front door, over a bow that had been carelessly left on the floor. He snarled a moment at the thing and made a note to talk to his men about leaving equipment lying about.

"Someone's got to teach them some discipline… They're going to get themselves killed." He muttered to himself, kicking the bow back towards its rack. Upon reaching the door he hauled in the large pack of papers that was sitting on the front step. He shuffled through the notes. He took the bills and other administrative papers up to Vilena Donton's desk, taking the various contracts down to the dining table. He tossed them down unceremoniously and sighed deeply. There weren't nearly as many contracts as there used to be.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down eyeing the bundle as if it were a rat about to bite him. He sipped at his coffee and finally decided it was time to get back down to business. He sorted the contracts according to which city they would be going to. There were a couple that would be completed by his men in Chorrol, these contracts he tucked into clipboards hanging on the wall. The others he tied up to be sent out with the guild's currier later in the morning.

He ran his hand over his bluish/grey forehead. He had a couple minutes before the others started trickling in, he closed his eyes and dosed, enjoying the sunlight on his face and the silence that surrounded him.

"Kurz gor-Baroth." Modryn looked up briefly from the clipboard in his hand.

"I want you and Lum gro-Baroth to head out to Pillaged Mine. The miners are complaining of goblins. Deal with it." Kurz gro-Baroth waved a massive meaty hand through the air.

"Yes, sir." He smiled and turned back towards the slab of mutton he had been working at. Modryn considered his profile a moment, but only a moment.

"Now. I want it done now. You two were late with your last contract. We can't afford to look bad these days. Get moving." He turned back to his clipboard.

"But I-" His stuttering was lost in the ensuing bellow.

"NOW!" Modryn didn't even bother to look up. He continued reading through the latest edition of the "Black Horse Currier", more news about the Blackwood Company; none of it good, at least not good for his guild. He let the paper fall to the table and watched Kurz and his brother walk out the door.

The Blackwood Company were becoming a problem. More and more people were turning to them to get contracts done. They were fast. A little too fast. How anyone could be that efficient was beyond his understanding. He passed a hand over his black Mohawk and sighed.

Picking up the paper again he started up the stairs. On his way up he batted at Sabine Laul's shoulder and wordlessly motioned for her to pick up that damned stray bow.  
He casually knocked on the top of the railing at the top step to Vilena's office to get her attention.

"Got a minute?" He asked quietly.

"Certainly, Modryn, what's on your mind?" Inwardly Modryn winced. He hated the way the Imperial woman pronounced his name. For that matter, just about all non-Mer races got his name off. He let it slide, as he always did. There just wasn't any point.

"It's about the Blackwood Company…" He knew perfectly well that this conversation was a waste of time; in fact he already knew what the guild master was going to say.

"Modryn, we've been over this before." She turned back to her paper work with an exaggerated sigh. "There's nothing to be said about them."

"There is! They're good, too good, we're getting less and less contracts these days, we're loosing members."

"Well we can't force the people of Cyrodiil to bring their business to us, now can we?" She rolled her eyes and, once again, turned back to her papers. You don't roll your eyes at a Dunmer when he's trying to make a point. You just don't. Modryn renewed his effort in the matter having a hard time staying calm.

"I don't trust them. They're hiding something, they must be! Nobody is that good, even if their members were made up of seasoned Legion soldiers they couldn't be that good!" He started pacing back and forth in front of the guild master's desk.

"Modryn…" Her voice had a warning tone to it, but Modryn ignored her and pressed on, waving his hand through the air and talking faster.

"No… it needs looking into. Something's not right there. Look, I could take a few men out to Leyawiin and-" Modryn had just time to back up a step quickly. Vilena didn't just stand up; she shot up, slamming the bottoms of her palms onto the desk.

"Not another word, Modryn," She hissed. "There is nothing to be done here." She sat back down abruptly making it clear that the discussion was over. It had ended just the same as all the other times he had approached the issue. He turned away and sighed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 2**

**Morndas, Second Seed. 3E 432.   
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil.**

Darromesh closed the archmagister's door gently behind her and made her way slowly down the stairs. As near as she could tell from the Altmer woman's riddle like speech she was to find a lost crystal ball. She poked her nose in the room to the left of the doors where she had first seen Agata emerge from. She seemed to have a better understanding of archmgister Dagail; perhaps she would know something of the crystal ball.

Agata was talking to a Khajiit male. She heard her name mentioned and knocked on the doorframe, one eyebrow cocked up. Agata smiled and motioned for her to come in. The Khajiit peered at her from under a tan hooded robe. Hands clasped in front of him, buried in the sleeves of his robe.

"Darromesh, I'd like you to meet S'drassa. He'll be overseeing your alchemy work here. The guild is prepared to pay you for mixing up a few potions and collecting ingredients." She turned to the Khajiit. "S'drassa, Darromesh." S'drassa smiled at her, displaying two rows of sharp feline teeth.

"A pleasure, I'm sure," his voice was deep and raspy. Khajiit voices always sounded sinister to her. She smiled back and bowed her head in greeting. The other returned the gesture and excused himself from the room, taking with him a large orange leather bound book. Mesh turned to Agata, tugging at her mage's robe sleeve as she, to turned to leave.

"Umm, Agata, a word with you?" Agata turned back and gave Mesh her full attention. "It's about Dagail… she's asked me to find her crystal ball. I'm not sure where to start, or even what I'm looking for. This place is full of crystal balls!" Agata nodded and smiled. She pulled a chair from around the desk and sat down, motioning for Mesh to take the bench against the wall.

"Something you should know about Dagail." She began, leaning forward in her seat.

"She has visions. Her abilities with divination are unmatched within the guild. She has many… uh, magical outlets, lets call them, to help keep the visions in check and aid in their clarity. The crystal ball isn't needed to see, but more to organize and control the flow. Like a funnel, it keeps the visions from pouring in to fast and all at once."

She paused as if to make sure Mesh followed. She nodded to indicate she did, and Agata continued.

"The crystal ball you're looking for is unique. Instead of the usual clear crystal ball it's a polished ebony ball. The stand isn't missing, all you need to do is find that ebony orb." She paused in thought.

"It's really something of a puzzle. We can't figure out how it happened to go missing. I've asked everyone here. And it's not as if it's useful to any of the other mages, Dagail is the only one able to use it." She sighed and slapped her knees with both hands, seeming to snap out of some daze.

"Well, I had given it up for lost, but Dagail seems to have it in her head that you can find it. Just keep your eyes and ears peeled while you go about your other duties."

"I will. Thank you Agata. Where should I begin with my alchemy work?" Mesh got up from her bench as Agata pushed her chair back around the other side of the desk.

"Go see S'drassa. He'll get you started." She smiled and offered a small wave.

"If you need anything come find me. And welcome to the mage's guild." She left Mesh standing in the small study feeling somewhat lost and out of place. How is it that, if none of the more experienced guild members could find the elusive crystal ball, she was supposed to? With a sigh and a shrug she wandered off in search of her alchemy tutor.

The rest of the afternoon S'drassa had her out and about the Leyawiin County collecting green stain cup caps and bog beacon caps. The Leyawiin area is rich with swamps making it the perfect place for hunting down various species of fungi.

Mesh had the foresight to buy a good pair of boot for trudging through the tall wet grass and the hundreds of small shallow pools scattered everywhere. What she forgot was to leave her mage's robe behind. She had been so excited to finally be a member of the mages guild that she didn't think to leave her associate's robe behind in favor of something more practical; as a result the bottom six inches of her grey robe was soaking wet. Here and there her robe would catch on a stray stick or a stump and she would curse under her breath. It was warm and humid out causing the robe to cling uncomfortably to her back.

She pressed on however, determined to fill the basket she was given to the brim. She kept the ingredients neatly organized, bog beacons on one side, green stain cups on the other, in carefully placed rows.

Despite the hard work and discomforts she was happy. It felt good to be working at a passion rather then with the drunken curs back at the White Stallion Lodge. She took a moment to laugh, thinking of those pompous pretend knights trying to figure out how to make their own coffee and cleaning out their own stables. They were so proud of their ridiculous titles that they were probably trying to muck out the stables while in full armor. She giggled to herself again while stooping over a cluster of bog beacon caps, careful to pick them so that two inches of stem remained attached to the cap.

On returning to the guild she set the bog beacon caps out to dry in the sun. Later she would come back to them and crush them into a fine powder to be used in potions. The green stain caps she organized into groups according to quality and set those out to dry as well.

She then, set up her alchemy equipment on a small bench in the study from before. S'drassa was leaning casually on the edge of the desk, large pink nose still stuck in his leather bound book. He was leaving her, for the most part, to do things on her own. She knew he was keeping an eye on her, though, and was only standing there to offer any assistance.

She flipped through her "Fundamentals of Alchemy" text and found her notes on making potions of dispel. She ran her fingers down the list of ingredients. From the shelf in the back room she found several beakers of ectoplasm, a large green tinted jar of bergamot seeds, and a tall clear jar of void salts.

Moving back to her work area, arms full of jars, she lit her alembic. She placed a measured amount of void salts within the bigger section while adding an aqueous solution to the other. This would help reduce to damage to the users health, as void salts were a mild poison.

She then placed the ectoplasm into the retort, allowing it to sit on a low heat flame, making sure that it became hot, while never coming to a boil. The ectoplasm had already been distilled, so she could skip the step with the alembic.

She let that sit and began working the bergamot seeds with her mortar and pestle.

Once the salts were completely distilled she added them, along with the seeds to the retort with the ectoplasm, finally allowing it to boil.

She then put the resulting mixture back into the alembic and let it distill once again, then collecting the resulting translucent green liquid from the smaller of it's chambers.

She repeated this task for the rest of the day, well into the evening until she had a good five dozen dispel potions made up. Once S'drassa cleared them for quality she was allowed to take them to Alves Uvenim, the dunmer woman in charge of supplying alchemical ingredients and potions to guild members.

It was well after midnight when she pushed the doors of the chapel open for the second time. Her fingers were stained yellow and green and she was exhausted. She stepped into the large room expecting to find it empty.

Kantav Cheynoslin was leaning against the altar with his back to her. She was relieved to see the man still awake. She took a few more steps in and cleared her throat loudly. He turned around with a questioning look on his face, then smiled when he recognized her.

"I was wondering when you'd show up! Silana Blandia is waiting downstairs for you. Go on down." With her pocket full of gold from selling the potions she had made she descended the stairs confidently. This was the first real step towards her goal and she was excited and proud that she had accomplished it on her own.

**Morndas, Second Seed. 3E 432.   
Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Rubbing his temples, Modryn retreated back down to the main floor of the fighter's guild. Some days he didn't know why he bothered trying. He knew the Blackwood Company was a problem. He knew that Vilena knew that the Blackwood Company was a problem.

What he didn't know was why she was so adamant about doing nothing about it. It made no sense, at least not as far as he could see. Any questions on the subject were brushed off in one way or another. It was as if she was trying to deny their very existence.

He accepted a cup of coffee and a sympathetic smile from Sabine and sat down at the table with his clipboards. There were only two more contracts to pass out today.

One of them was fairly simple. Escort a couple mage researchers to Narfinsel, a small Ayleid ruin between here and Skingrad. The ruin would most likely have some nasty inhabitants, but with the company of skilled mages it shouldn't be too difficult. He could send a few of his less experienced men to do the job. Give them some seasoning.

As for the other contract, it would require the skills of one of his finer soldiers. It seems the Stone of St. Alessia has been stolen from the Chapel of Talos in Bruma. The city watch are, as usual, useless when it comes to tracking down thieves.

He had considered passing the contract up to Bruma, but Right-Wind, the Argonian head of the Bruma fighter's guild, was short experienced men at the moment.

Everyone was short these days. He sighed and scratched at the rough stubble on his chin. He didn't have long to stare at his clipboards, the door to his guildhall opened, emitting to cheerful talkative young men. He smiled and scooped up the first of his contracts.

"Viranus. Eduard. I've got something for you." He stood up from his chair to face the boys. Viranus was a bright young man. Strong, working well in heavy steel armor and with a large blade. He had little experience but showed great promise.

Eduard was a tall slim man. He preferred leather armor and a short blade. His speed more then made up for the weaker equipment. The only thing he needed was more experience in the field.

Modryn showed the two where they were going on the map pinned to the back wall. He explained everything he knew about the job and answered questions.

He sent the two eager boys out the door just as Vitellus Donton walked through the door. He stood in the doorway a moment wishing his younger brother luck with his contract and then stepped inside.

"Vitellus. Just the man I was looking for." Modryn smiled waving the other man over and offering him a seat.

"You have something for me Modryn?" Vitellus asked, draping an arm over the back of his chair.

"I do. I need you to head out to Bruma. Speak to Cirroc at the Chapel of Talos. An important stone has been stolen. We'll need you to track down those thieves. Cirroc will be able to tell you more. How soon can you leave?" Modryn put a small emphasis on the last part. He knew Vitellus was aware of the guild's need to report to the client promptly, but couldn't see a gentle reminder doing any harm.

Vitellus laughed at the subtle hint. He put a hand on Modryn's shoulder.

"I can leave right away, sir. I've got nothing to do here today. Just let me grab a few supplies, I'll be out the door within the hour." With a nod, and still chuckling to himself the Imperial man got up and left for the basement.

Modryn sighed with relief. At least there was someone around here with a good sense of duty and discipline. He replaced his clipboards to the wall, marking on each one with who he sent and when.

Finding his work done for a few moments he pushed his chair back on two legs and leaned back against the wall. He kicked his feet up onto the table and scooped up an apple. All things considered he couldn't complain too much. Things could always be worse.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 3**

**Morndas, Second Seed. 3E 432.   
Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Modryn hadn't been leaning back in his chair for long before the front door opened again. He looked up, still chewing on his apple. He watched as a bosmer man poked his head into the guild as if he was expecting it to be bitten off. Modryn would have laughed at the little thing if he weren't in such a lazy mood. The shorter man hesitantly stepped into the guildhall and closed the door gently behind him. There were a few heavy footsteps on the stairs and the guild's porter came into view, Rene, a heavyset elderly nord man. Modryn munched slowly on his apple while lazily listening to the short conversation.

"Greetings bomer, how can I help you?" Rene smiled. Modryn rolled his eyes. The man was always so cheerful. All of Oblivion could swarm the guildhall and he'd probably stop to shake everyone's hands.

"I'm looking to join the fighters guild. Is your guild master in?" Modryn stopped chewing abruptly and raised his eyes to scrutinize the small man. He didn't look like much. He wasn't even carrying any weapon as far as he could see. Most applicants at least showed up with a rusty dagger.

"No, I'm afraid Vilena Donton isn't in at the moment. You could speak to the champion, though if you like, Modryn Oreyn, he could sign you up." Rene pointed towards Modryn. He waved his apple through the air in front of him in greeting. Damn, that's all he needed, another new boot to baby-sit. He slowly put one foot then the other back to the floor and stood up, giving his chair a kick back towards the table.

"Follow me." He said gruffly, and tromped up the stairs. The bosmer followed. Modryn sat down on the edge of Vilena's chair and dug the sign up book from one of the desk drawers. He flipped it open and turned the pages until he found the right one.

"Your name? He asked, keeping his eyes to the page.

"Maglir." The other stated quietly.

"You have any experience? What's your weapon preference?" To this Modryn looked up. He was concerned at the lack of confidence the bosmer was showing. A lack of confidence meant a short life span in this line of work.

"Uh… well… no, not much. I guess I prefer a blade. A sword that is." Maglir cast his eyes down to the floor and shuffled his feet. Modryn sighed and filled out the various lines in the book. This one would need some training before he'd be useful in any way. He slammed the book closed and replaced it in the desk.

"Alright. We'll head down to the basement and see what you can do. Do you have any equipment of your own?" Maglir shook his head no in reply. "The guild will have some spare equipment around, we'll fit you with something."

In the basement, Modryn had Maglir stand opposite him. He picked up a dull mace from the training rack and handed Maglir a rather dull looking short sword. He crouched down into a readied battle stance, bending his knees slightly and spreading his feet to shoulder width, and waited for the other to follow. He sort of stooped down holding the sword out in front of himself at an awkward angle. The little man looked as if he'd fall over on his face at any moment.

"Alright, alright… stand up." Modryn replaced his mace to the rack and did the same with Maglir's sword. He sighed heavily looking at the pathetic man in front of him.

"I'm going to send you to Anvil. They're a training center. Talk to Azzan he'll get you started on the right foot. Get some practice in and then come see me." Maglir looked as if he were about to protest, but Modryn cut him off. "I wouldn't trust you with a fork at this point. You're useless. Get to Anvil. Talk to Azzan." Modryn all but shooed him out the door. It was getting to be a real problem. He had more wanna-be heros then actual warriors. No wonder the fighter's guild was doing so poorly lately.

**Loredas, Midyear. 3E 432.  
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil.**

Life at the mage's guild gradually fell into a comfortable routine for Darrowmesh. Each day was very much like the other. Before she knew it weeks had gone by. She would collect ingredients in the mornings and make potions in the afternoons under the watchful eye of S'drassa. Her alchemy skill was gradually improving. She moved on to more complex and more potent potions, and so, making more gold when she sold them. Which was a very good thing since she was advancing through the restoration lessons with Silana rapidly and was paying more gold for advanced training. She was almost ready to begin work with the chapel on live patients.

Mesh reflected on all of this as, once again, she set her alchemy equipment up on the desk in the small study. She had become quite confident in her work. S'drassa still remained with her while she worked, but now paid more attention to his books and collection of crystals then he did to what she was doing. She set her "Fundamentals of Alchemy" text out in front of her, but didn't open it. She rarely needed to consult its pages anymore. It had grown worn and stained over the weeks. She loved the way it looked now. She could imagine books like that on the desks of master wizards. She looked over her stock of ingredients and noticed she was missing imp gall. Damn. She wandered into the back storeroom to hunt some down. Leaving S'drassa to his pretty stones. She ran her fingers along the shelves, scanning the worn faded labels. Not finding what she was looking for she called over her shoulder to her mentor.

"S'drassa? Are we out of imp gall?" She paused waiting for a reply. She received none. She called louder, "S'drassa?" Still no reply. She poked her head back into the study. Now where could that cat have wandered off too? She frowned and huffed. She'd just have to find some on her own. Wandering out into the foyer she spotted Alves coming down the stairs.

"Alves, do you have any spare imp gall? There isn't any in the back store room." She threw a thumb over her shoulder indicating the room she had just emerged from.

"Mmm… no… I don't have any." She furrowed her brow in thought. "You might check the basement, though, there are usually extras down there." The older dunmer woman brushed passed her with a smile. The basement? Ugh. Mesh hated the basement. Kalthar was down there most of the time. There was something creepy about that man. It could be his shady past. Rumor is he used to be a necromancer. He's always skulking about in the shadows, muttering to himself. She caste a small light spell, cradling the ball of green light in her palm, as if it might fall she took the basement stairs quietly.

"Hello?" She waited on tiptoe for an answer. Maybe Kalthar was busy elsewhere. With that comforting thought in mind she skipped down the stairs. Looking both left and right at the bottom of the stairs, she made double sure she was alone. She pushed the ball of green light to sit just above and behind her head, freeing her hands to search the cupboards for the imp gall.

She had search through most of the storage area and was on her knees fiddling with a chest clasp. It wasn't locked, just jammed. She used a weak open lock spell only to have it fail; she wasn't really expecting it to work, but it was worth a try.

"What are you doing down here?" A gruff voice came from behind her, causing her to jump.

"Kalthar! I was just looking for some imp gall." She stammered, moving back from the chest and standing up. The nord towered over her. He was unusually dark for a nord, with dark hair and dark bushy eyebrows. Truth be told, the man scared her.

"Well there isn't any down here, get out!" He advanced a few steps, fists balled.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"OUT! NOW!" He bellowed. She didn't need to be asked again. She got up and ran passed the large man. While weaving around him she caught her robe sleeve on one of his bedposts and lost her balance. She hit the floor hard, biting her lip. Blood swelled into her mouth. She choked against the unexpected metallic taste. She quickly stood up and continued her hasty retreat, but not before she caught a glimpse, out of the corner of her eye, of something black and reflective under Kalthar's bed. Just before she hit the stairs she looked back over her shoulder, one hand cupping the swollen bleeding lip. Kalthar was eyeing her suspiciously.

She slammed the basement door, lunging for the safety of the small sitting room. Breathing heavily she leaned against a short bookshelf, not caring that a few of its contents were sent tumbling to the floor. Dagail's ebony orb. That's what was under Kalthar's bed. She was sure of it. But how was she going to get it. She couldn't just stroll down there and take it. That man is an ex-necromancer. Who knows what he could do to her.

She sighed. Of all the places that damned ball had to be, it had to be under the bed of the one man in the guild that she hated. Her lip stung badly; thinking was out of the question until after she tended to her wound. She cast a quick minor healing spell with a flick of her hand. Watching as the blue tendrils wrapped around her form, falling around the frayed bottom of her robe to the floor. While the wound had healed it still stung. She poured a small glass of water, casting a cold spell forcing the water to freeze solid. This she took from the glass and rubbed it over her lip, numbing the pain.

She'd have to get Kalthar out of the guildhall for a while. Long enough for her to find that orb. The fetcher was probably finding a new hiding place for it right now. If she gave him too much time he'd take it from the guildhall altogether and it would be lost forever. Maybe she could ask S'drassa to help her; she'd grown to trust the Khajiit man. She was sure he'd help.

She didn't have time to ponder the plan for long though, she heard footstep from behind the basement door. She had just enough time to cast a quick invisibility spell. Kalthar hastily stepped from the doorframe's shadow holding a burlap sack. Mesh took in a sharp breath. The orb. He was taking it from the hall. She followed him as he slipped out the front double doors and down the front steps of the guildhall.

She started getting nervous once they passed through the safety of the Leyawiin gates. Within the city she could always call for help, but out here, she was on her own. She started to lag behind a bit. Her invisibility spell was about to wear off. The spell had been a bit above her level and had left her feeling drained; there was no way she could attempt anything bigger then a weak light spell.

She ducked behind a tree and watched Kalthar from a distance. She held her breath hoping Kalthar wouldn't turn around or hear her hasty dashes to other nearby trees and bushes. She lopped softly on the balls of her feet, clutching a fistful of robe in each hand, keeping the rough fabric from making swishing noises.

Kalthar hadn't walked far before he arrived at the entrance to a cave. She'd seen it marked on maps back at the guild… Darkfathom or something. Kalthar turned around and looked around him. Mesh froze, holding her breath as the suspicious man looked from left to right. She closed her eyes as she pressed her back to the tree's rough trunk, trying to squeeze her shoulders in to make herself as small as possible.

Kalthar had turned back to the cave entrance once more and Mesh heard the loud creaking of the worn door. Mesh waited a heartbeat or two before following. She slipped through the door and to the side behind a boulder before she could be seen. They were standing in absolute darkness, but only for a moment. Kalthar cast a powerful light spell, bathing the entire chamber in a soft green light. Upon looking at the ground Mesh realized it would be next to impossible for her to move silently on such a gritty surface, she would have to wait and follow the other at a distance.

She waited for Kalthar to round a corner to the left, and as silently as she could she snuck up to the corner and poked her head around its edge. Kalthar was nowhere to be seen. Mesh had a moment of panic. There was nowhere for him to have gone, he couldn't have gotten to the next corner already, not without running, and she would have heard that. Had he, also, cast an invisibility spell? Did he suspect he was being followed? Just as she was about to make a dead run down the narrow tunnel she heard an odd scrapping noise and darted back around the corner out of sight. A moment later Kalthar rounded the corner empty handed. She quickly flattened herself against the rock. She watched as he left the cave, once again leaving her with only the company of the darkness.

She waited a moment to make sure he wasn't coming back. The door remained closed; the cavern remained dark. Satisfied that he was indeed gone she cast her own light spell, albeit, weaker. She positioned the light slightly behind her so that it would be out of her eyes. She moved down the passage expecting to find a side passage. There was none. Up ahead the passage took a turn to the right, but Kalthar had emerged from somewhere in the middle, from the left side of the wall.

She began inspecting the wall more closely and found what appeared to be a seam in the wall. She pushed at the rock face and slowly the wall began to shift under her palm. A large section of the wall sank down into the ground. She stepped into a small closet like chamber.

Against the back wall was a chest. She knelt down beside it and fiddled with the latch. Locked. She tried her lock release spell again. It failed. Damn. She leaned back on her heels. She didn't know how to pick locks. She looked around her for anything she could use to force the stubborn container to open. Picking up a good-sized stone she started bashing the lock. It made a few dents but otherwise the stone appeared to take more of a beating then the lock. She stopped a moment and shook her wrist out. This wasn't working; she'd need some way to weaken the lock. A disintegrate spell would be handy, too bad she didn't know any.

She considered the lock a moment and a small smile started to spread across her lips. She switched the stone to her left hand and cast a cold spell, freezing the lock. She put all her concentration into that spell; watching the blue glow around her hand expand in size, small white flecks dancing about and dissipating. There was a low rumble like soft thunder and then it was gone, leaving the lock covered in small lace like water crystals. She took the rock up again and aimed. Bringing it down hard, the lock shattered.

Careful not to touch the box near where the frozen lock was she opened the box. Inside was Dagail's ebony orb along with a sack full of septims and a few sparkling jewels. She considered leaving the money and jewels behind a moment, but after everything she'd been through, she had little sympathy for the grouchy nord. She filled the pockets of her robes and cradled the orb in her arms. Leaving the rock wall open, she left the cave and made her way back to the guild feeling rich. In her hand she held her recommendation. In her pockets, the means to buy more restoration lessons.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 4 ******

**Sundas, Midyear. 3E 432. ****  
****Bravil, Cyrodiil.**

Darrowmesh skipped through the Bravil City gates feeling like a champion. She craved more adventure after recovering Dagail's ebony orb. Regardless of how invincible she had been feeling, she stuck to the main road on her way to Bravil and stayed out of any caverns that came into sight. She wasn't going to become a famous healer by pocking about in caves and old forts.

The chapel was over in the east part of town, conveniently, right next to the mage's guild. She skipped over to the chapel door humming a tune her foster mother used to sing to her when she was little.

She had to tug a little harder on the Bravil chapel doors then she did the Leyawiin doors, they were slightly rusted and worn. The chapel of Mara was dimly lit, and with the clouded sky outside there wasn't much light filtering through the tall stained glass windows. A friendly looking Breton woman stepped towards her.

"Hello there, I'm Chana Mona, Primate of the Chapel of Mara here in Bravil. Welcome." She smiled warmly and held out an arm, ushering her further within the chapel.

"I'm actually here looking for restoration training." Mesh pulled out a crisply folded square of parchment and handed it to the woman. "I've got my journeyman's ticket already, but I'd like more training." 

"Oh, you'll be looking for Marz." Chana Mona passed her off to an argonian woman. Mesh explained how she had worked at the mage's guild, in Leyawiin, during the day to earn septims to buy restoration lessons by night. She asked the woman if the same set up would be all right here as well. Marz agreed happily and sent her off to check in at the mage's guild next door.

She found the mage's guild to be just as worn and rusty as the chapel. Somehow the worn wood made the guildhall look comfortable and safe, like home. She stepped through the door and gently pushed it closed. She asked a fellow dunmer woman where she could find the archmagister. She nodded a chin towards an argonian woman sitting in a chair against the wall just behind her. The argonian must have over heard the brief conversation, she had one keen red eye turned in her direction.

"Hello, I'm Kud-ei, the archmagister, and I suppose you're looking for a recommendation?" She asked in a husky argonian voice. "I'm afraid I haven't really got the time to come up with anything." She waved her copy of "De Rerum Dirennis" and sighed deeply. "I'm in over my head with all this alchemy nonsense!"

At the mention of alchemy Mesh's ears perked up.

"I happen to be rather proficient with alchemy. Is there anything I can do to help?" She looked eagerly over at the other, almost hungrily. There was nothing Mesh loved more then making potions. And if she could use alchemy to get herself a recommendation, all the better. Kud-ei considered her for a moment, head cocked to the side.

"Hmm… well, I suppose it couldn't hurt to let you try dealing with him." She got up out of her chair, leaving the book behind. "Come. Follow me; I'll introduce you to my good friend Henantier. He's rather good at getting himself into trouble, I think it fair to warn you." Mesh raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Trouble? Maybe there was more adventure to be had here.

They left the mage's guild and walked across the dirt road to a worn out looking home. Kud-ei gave a quick couple knocks and entered. Mesh followed her in just in time to see a cranky looking, though handsome, altmer head pop into view from the top of the stairs. Upon seeing Kud-ei the man's face cleared and he smiled. He took the stairs down, two at a time, and stooped down to give Kud-ei a quick hug.

"I think I'm making progress," he gushed, "I've figured out another ingredient for my potion!" Kud-ei stopped him with a wave of her hand and rolled her bright red eyes.

"Henantier, you know alchemy isn't my thing. I'm skilled with alteration and illusion, even some destruction and restoration, but not alchemy." Henantier looked annoyed at the turn the conversation took, as if this was something that has come up more then once.

Kud-ei introduced Mesh and explained that she was much more interested and talented with alchemy then herself. She appointed Mesh to assist him in any way needed and to, please, leave her to run her guild in peace. She then turned on her heels, wished him all the best of luck, and stormed out.

Mesh turned to the taller man and waited. He stood staring at the door with a frown a moment but seemed to shake it off.

"An alchemist, eh? Well, you're going to love this then! Come on up, I'll show you." It was almost funny for Mesh to watch the man's face. He went from a sulky frown to a giddy grin almost instantly. She followed him up the stairs, pulling at the bottom of her grey robe, trying not to trip.

"Here, see this?" Henantier pushed a stack of papers towards Mesh, some of them fluttering to the ground. She'd always thought the altmer were organized and exact in their methods. Apparently, this one had skipped the memo. There were papers, ingredient, and alchemy equipment everywhere, and even what looked like a half eaten sandwich next to a dish of nightshade. She might have to do some cleaning up when the man wasn't looking. It wouldn't get her a recommendation to have him drop dead before his work was done.

"This is what I've been working on for the last couple years." He continued happily, brushing the sandwich aside and setting the dish of nightshade on top of it." She scrunched her nose up as a yellow goo oozed out from between the slices of bread. Henantier didn't notice, he was much to excited about the papers that were scattered everywhere.  
"It's a special potion. A dream world potion." He shoved a piece of parchment in front of her face. It was worn and faded. The ink was smudged and faded in spots. It was a list of ingredient. Mesh's eye's bulged and her jaw dropped. Her hands began to shake as she scanned down the list.

"You can't be serious!" She hadn't intended to say it out loud, but Henantier looked like he had expected it. He had a mischievous grin on his face and was looking at her with his head tilted to the side. He was judging her reaction. She just stared at the man, convinced of his insanity. 

**Sundas, Midyear. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Modryn stretched his arms back behind his head and yawned. He flicked at his mohawk absently. He had the guildhall to himself save for Vilena upstairs. He could hear the scratches of her quill moving over parchment. Otherwise the place was quiet.

He turned his attention back to the leather bound pay roll book in front of him. He flipped a couple pages casually with his thumb, thinking. Contracts have been slim lately, but not so bad that he had to worry. He turned back to the front pages and went over the list of members. 

There were more low rank members then high. He made a note of the members that were showing promise and those that were lagging behind. He might have to have one of his talks with a few of the less ambitious members. A talk, of course meaning an effort to reduce a grown man to tears.

He smiled remembering his latest "talk" with the new boot Maglir. It wasn't that he enjoyed tearing a strip out of his men, well yes, he did, but he had their best interest in mind. If a good deal of these men didn't smarten up they'd end up dead. Then he'd have family members to tend to, a mountain of paper work, not to mention Vilena's lectures on the importance of "family and brotherhood". He sighed. It would be nice to hire a few new, maybe half decent members right now, but the guild couldn't afford it. He'd already had to cut back payouts. What a chore that had been! Never had he heard such whining.

He shuffled through the stack of papers beside him and dug out the latest note from Azzan about Maglir's progress in training. It was going. Not well, but at least the boot was learning. He crumpled the paper up and tossed over his shoulder, not really caring where it landed, just as long as it was out of his sight for now.

He looked up at the sound of the front door opening. He smiled and stood up as Vitellus Donton strolled through the door. The young man had a light, easy step considering how much steel armor he was wearing. He looked very much like his younger brother, but his face was leaner, as if carved from oak. He carried himself with a great sense of confidence, the kind that only comes with experience and years of hard work. Vitellus was Modryn's finest warrior.

The young Imperial smiled and held out his hand, dropping two small decorative rings to the table. 

"That should make your conjurer happy. I found both of them. Of course I had to slit a minotaur open and fish around its gut before finally finding that last one." He laughed at the task and took a seat at the table. Modryn followed him, taking his seat from before. He grinned and handed Vitellus his pay for the contract. He flipped open his payroll book again and thumbed down Vitellus' column.

"You know, Vitellus, I think you're due for advancement. Congratulations, you're now a champion of the fighter's guild!" He reached back behind himself, grabbing two bottles from the wine rack. He slid an ale over to his friend and kept one for himself.

"I'm not giving you my job." He laughed and trolled his finger down the pages once more. "But Bruma could use a good chapter head if you're interested." He looked up at the man next to him and took a swig of his ale.

Vitellus made a sour face around his bottle of ale.  
"You're joking, right? In that land of snow and ice? I think I'll just stay here. Besides, I don't want to end up filling out papers all day like you!" He nudged Modryn in the ribs with an elbow causing him to spill ale down the front of his cuirass. He coughed a moment before looking indignant.

"Have it your way then", he choked, brushing his armor dry with the hand currently free of ale, "I can't say I blame you." Modryn gave the papers scattered on the table in front of him a look that would have made any man cringe with fear. Vitellus just laughed and gave him a slap on the back.

"So, do you want to hear about how the ring got into the belly of a minotaur or not?" Vitellus smiled around another swig of ale, set the bottle down and reached for another. Modryn held out his hand for another as well and leaned back in his chair.

"Damn right I do." He rested his boots on the table and settled in to hear the adventure. It sounded like it was going to be a good one. Vitellus always knew how to tell a good story.


	5. Chapter 5

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 5******

**Sundas, Midyear. 3E 432. ****  
****Bravil, Cyrodiil.**

Darrowmesh darted her eyes back down to Henantier's list of ingredients. It must be a joke; she thought… maybe he was just testing her? Trying to find out just how much she new about ingredients and potion making. She gave him a suspicious side ways glance and cocked an eyebrow.

"You are joking… right?" She paused. Henantier just shook his head from side to side still grinning.

"Sir… This is a poison. A very, very potent poison." She spoke hesitantly. Wondering what he'd have to say. He didn't say anything. His grin actually spread wider. If he smiled any more his face might split in two.

"You do know your ingredients then, my dear!" He clapped his hands together and spun around to dig through a mountain of papers piled beside his desk.

Mesh sighed deeply with relief. She rolled her eyes and smiled at the man's back.

"Ha! Then you were just testing me." She chuckled and set the ridiculous list down on the corner of the desk. Henantier looked up briefly from his stack of papers and gave her a serious look this time.

"No. I'm quite serious about the potion. It's just nice to know that you recognize everything on that list." He went back to shuffling through the papers, occasionally pulling one out and tucking it under his arm. Mesh's smile faded. She snatched the list back and read it out loud to the man.

"That's insane!

Nightshade

Cannfear claws

Deadra silk

Viper's bugloss

Harrada

Poisons. All of them are poisons! You can't actually plan on drinking this!"

She waved the list in front of him, demanding he grant her his full attention. He nodded and pulled a chair around for her. She pulled it over and sat down facing the desk. He set his newfound papers in front of him and folded his hands together.

"Yes. Yes, it is a poison. A poison is precisely what I need. Of course, that's why I need you. I need to off set some of the less desirable effects."

He held a hand up to keep her from interrupting. "I know, they are all less then desirable under normal circumstances, but this," He slid a piece of paper towards her. "Is far from normal." Quickly, she scanned the length of the paper. Not only was this potion far from normal, but its creator was far from sane.

"You're trying to get into your own mind…?" She stammered a bit. The idea was nothing short of insane, and the method suicidal.

"Mmm hmm, see now," He took the paper back and flicked it with the back of his hand, "If this works, I'll be able to use my mind as a sort of training ground. How many hours do we lose to sleep every night? If while sleeping we could use our dreams to better ourselves the guild would have stronger members. We wouldn't have to have such extensive lessons. Training time would be cut in half!" He waved his hand in the air and stared off in the distance imagining the possibilities.

"Or you could be dead…" Mesh added softly, breaking his dreamy look and brining him back to the present. He smiled.

"Look," He placed another sheet before her, "This is what I need… The cannfear claws combined with the harrada will add a paralysis effect. Couple that with the burden effect from the nightshade, daedra silk and viper's bugloss and you get the required loss of physical control and consciousness. And then, and here's the trick, night eye from both the daedra silk and viper's bugloss. When you add a night eye effect to an unconscious and physically incapacitated individual the effect then turns inward to the mind.

And before you mention it, I know, it also has a very strong damage health effect. This is precisely what I need you to curb for me."

He sat back and folded his arms. He smiled in a smug fashion as if expecting her to suddenly see the light of reason. All she saw was a maniac.

Regardless of her opinion of the dangerous potion he had her get straight to work on it. He set aside a small room, little more then a closet, for her to work in. She brought in two chairs and set them, backs against the wall, as a make shift table. Here she set up her alchemy equipment. Most of her days were spent with a parchment and quill, rather then with her equipment. She played around on the paper, trying to find the right combination and method and the right quantities.

From time to time Kud-Ei would stop in and nervously ask about progress. From Kud-Ei Mesh learned why Henantier wasn't using the resources of the Arcane University to create his potion. He certainly has the ranking to be permitted access to the university. The only problem he faced was the council of mages. They made it clear that they don't approve of his experiments.

Darrowmesh found herself sympathizing with Kud-Ei's concern. Crazy he was, but he was also a good employer; he always paid her well at the end of a long day. When he found out she was taking healing lessons by night he began letting her leave earlier in the evening and starting later in the mornings. She began to really enjoy working with him. Sure he was crazy, but he was kind too. He had a good sense of humor about things, especially explosions. Mesh once inadvertently blew up his dinning room table. He laughed endlessly about it.

The day finally came to begin preparing the ingredients. She started by distilling the nightshade, powdered cannfear claws, and crushed harrada, separately, in the alembic for a full day. She wanted to make good and sure the damage health effect was as weak as absolutely possible. When that was done, she repeated the step just for good measure.

The next morning she collected the distilled solutions from her alembic and tested each one for strength. The damage health effect had been sufficiently reduced, but so had the other poisonous effects that Henantier insisted on. She sighed and ran a thumb along the rim of her calcinator. How strong did it need to be, anyway?

At that moment, perhaps attracted by the amount of frustrated sighing, Henantier poked his head through the door.

"How's the potion coming along, Darrowmesh?" He asked around a mouthful of toast. He noticed her hesitation and stepped into the small room and looked over her shoulder. He grimaced slightly looking at the diluted solution.

"You'll need to strengthen that. It looks a bit weak." He took another bite of toast sending a light shower of crumbs down to meet her notes.

"If I add it to the calcinator it may strengthen the damage health effect. You're going to end up dead you know, Henantier." He waved her off and leaned against the doorframe, brushing crumbs from his robe to the floor.

"Try it anyway. Just make sure to distill the finished result once more before bottling it. Hey, are you going to have breakfast or not? I've got some toast and eggs downstairs." He cocked his head to one side and smiled. Darrowmesh just waved him out and got back to work. She tried to avoid Henantier's cooking. It wasn't that he's a bad cook, it's just that he has a habit of keeping his supply of nightshade scattered around the kitchen.

Reluctantly she added her solution, along with the daedra silk, to the calcinator and let it stew a few hours. When she returned she added it all to the alembic again and let it distill once more.

Early the next morning she bottled the greenish liquid that was waiting for her at the bottom of her alembic. The sinister liquid stared back at her from its translucent green bottle. She considered the stuff a moment and then set it on her make shift table.

As quietly as she could she crawled on hands and knees around the length of the walls. She held a small jar in one hand. It didn't take long for her to find a few fat beetles scuttling around in the dusty corners. She caught them in her jar and headed back up to her small lab.

Back in her study she pulled one of the beetles out of the jar and whispered an apology to it. She set it in the calcinator so it wouldn't get away and carefully gave it a single drop of the potion. The beetle glowed red a moment, hissed, and then fell to its belly, legs folding in. It gave a shudder and lay motionless.

Mesh sat back on her heels and tipped the jar over containing the rest of the bugs. There was no point trying again. The potion was a potent poison. There was no way around it. She wandered down to Henantiers sitting room, potion in hand. Henantier was busy fixing breakfast already. She walked past him and sat down heavily on a wooden chair.

She listened to the man as he hummed an off key tune. As he wiped his arms around, frying pan in one hand, eggs in the other, he sent a loaf of bread and a dish of nightshade flying. He laughed and picked them off the floor and set them back in their original spots. Mesh rolled her eyes. Henantier didn't need her help to get himself killed; he was going to manage just fine on his own.

**Fredas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

It was still early morning when the Chorrol fighter's guild door slammed shut. Modryn looked over his shoulder, finger still tracing a line down the gold road on the map pinned to the back wall. A very upset argonian woman was standing just inside the door, her face buried in a handkerchief. Modryn stepped around the table setting his stack of clipboards down. It was Seed-Neeus, from "Northern Goods and Trades".

"Is there something I can help you with? Here, come up to the office." Modryn led the troubled looking woman up to Vilena.

"It's my daughter, Dar-Ma," She said in a shaky voice. "I'm worried sick about her. She went out to Hackdirt to make a delivery yesterday and hasn't returned yet."

Modryn and Vilena exchanged troubled glances. Hackdirt was no place for a girl like Dar-Ma. They say that passing through Hackdirt during the day was bad, but even worse so at night. Modryn left Seed-Neeus with Vilena and took the stairs down two at a time. He did a quick scan down his clipboards. Ugh. He didn't have any men available. He went back up to the office and through his hands up, signaling to Vilena that there was nobody around to look into Dar-Ma's disappearance.

Seed-Neeus looked back and forth from one to the other looking like she might burst into tears at any moment. Modryn placed a hand on the hilt of his mace.

"I could go." He suggested with a shrug. He tried not to look to eager. He hadn't had a chance to get out in the field in a long time. Vilena gave him a quick nod and Seed-Neeus filled him in on the details. Modryn gave one last curt nod to show he understood and headed out the front door at a brisk pace.

It didn't take long for Modryn to reach Hackdirt. It was a 15 some odd minute jog down the hill south of Chorrol. Modryn slowed his pace allowing his breath to return to normal as he strolled passed the first of the badly burned and crumbling buildings. Quietly he circled around the outskirts of the town looking for any sign of the argonian lass or her paint horse, Blossom.

He found the horse tethered behind "Moslin's Dry Goods". He walked around the building and entered the shop. Inside he met a cantankerous old woman by the name of Etira Moslin. Upon asking about Dar-Ma and the horse, the woman all but spat in his face. She insisted that nobody from Chorrol had shown up for the delivery and that the horse was in fact hers.

Modryn stared at the woman. She was lying. She sneered back at him. There was no point in standing there next to such a hideous fetcher of an imperial, so he left, making sure to slam the door behind him. He asked a few of the locals about Dar-Ma but met the same curt hostile replies.

He decided to do another check around the parameter of the town, checking more closely among the rubble of partially destroyed buildings. He kicked at stones and splinters of wood as he pondered his next move. He watched as one of the stones he kicked skipped off the corner of a fallen wall and came to rest on what looked like a trap door.

Modryn quickly checked over both shoulders to make sure he wasn't being watched. He knelt down beside the wooden door in the floor. He gave his mace a tug to make sure it was securely in place and tugged at the steel ring of the door. It gave a small creak of resistance but otherwise moved with ease. The pit it exposed was dark and quiet. Modryn listened a moment then swung his legs over the edge and dropped down as silently as he could. He was plunged into darkness with only the sound of his breathing to keep him company.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 6******

**Fredas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Bravil, Cyrodiil.**

Darrowmesh looked down at the dangerous potion in her hand and pulled the cork off the top. Dramatically, she poured the liquid into a large potted plant that sat next to her chair. It glowed red a moment and hissed. Henantier turned at the sound in time to watch the plant shrivel in on itself and die.

"Hmm… it's not going well then is it?" He offered her a piece of toast and cheese. He didn't look fazed in the least. Mesh considered the toast and cheese a moment and thought, why not. With much ceremony she accepted the potentially fatal breakfast.

"You know Henantier, I can't do it. I'm not going to be the one to kill you. You're on your own with this crazy scheme." She took a bite and stopped at its peculiar taste. She shrugged and continued chewing. Henantier had a mixed look of pride and disappointment on his face. She'd never accepted a meal from him before, but the prospect of losing his alchemist must seem like a huge set back.

"While I'm disappointed in your decision to abandon my project I can understand why you would choose to do so. I'm sure Kud-Ei will be able to find you something else to do. You'll stop by for toast and cheese every now and then won't you?" He looked pathetic. Mesh gave him a hug and promised to stop by for toast as long as he promised to keep the nightshade away from it.

She stepped out into the sunlight and felt a large weight lift from her shoulders. She breathed in deeply and headed over to the Mage's guild. Kud-Ei will be pleased to learn the project has been called off.

Kud-Ei did in fact look very relieved that she had abandoned the potion. She gave Mesh the task of gathering and crushing bergamot seeds. Mesh happily spent the afternoon picking flowers in the warm weather.

When she returned to the guild she realized she had forgotten all her alchemy equipment at Henantier's. She grabbed a couple sweet rolls from the table and headed back over to collect her equipment and books.

She knocked a couple times at the door and opened it. She set the sweet rolls on the counter as far from the nightshade as possible. Then she set the kettle on the wood stove for some tea. She poked her head around to look up the stairs. She didn't hear anything. She had thought for sure her rustling around in the kitchen would attract the man's attention.

"Henantier?" She called. "I've got some sweet rolls down here." Still nothing. "I'm sorry to bother you if you're in the middle of something, but I've forgotten my equipment and notes here." She waited a moment and then started up the stairs.

"Henantier…?" Maybe he'd left on some errand or another… But then why would he leave his front door unlocked? That seemed a bit to empty headed, even for Henantier.

As she passed Henantiers bedroom a familiar red glow caught her eye. She paused a moment, feeling her stomach knot and twist. She swung the door open. There on the bed was the altmer mage. A faint red glow swirled about him. Small gurgling noises came from his lips as he drew shallow breaths and a trickle of blood was making its way down his cheek from his mouth. In every other respect he seemed to be in a peaceful sleep. An empty green bottle lay innocently by the side of the bed.

Mesh jumped to his side, screaming his name. She tried to shake him but he wouldn't move. He weighed a ton. The burden portion of the spell must still be in effect. She quickly caste dispel on him. The red glow vanished, but the damage had been done. She scanned the room quickly and picked up a heavy purple leather bound book. She threw it out the window, shattering the glass, and screamed hoping to attract the attention of the city guard.

She turned back around to face Henantier. You stupid mage! His breathing had become irregular, blood was pooling out the corners of his mouth at every exhale. She turned him onto his side to let it drain out, hoping to prevent him from drowning in his own blood. The burden spell must have crushed his ribs and pierced his lungs.

She heard a rush of footsteps on the stairs and several guards were storming into the room. She didn't give them a chance to ask what was going on.

"Go find Kud-Ei and the healer, Marz!" She turned back to Henantier and started casting convalescence spells. She heard the guards rush back down the stairs as the blue tendrils wrapped around Henantir. It was a lot easier to heal wounds that were visible. Cuts scrapes, and broken bones were all easy, but a collapsed chest was something altogether different.

Henantiers lips were beginning to turn blue. He was just barely breathing. It wasn't anywhere near enough to keep him alive. Mesh continued to caste convalescence spells on him, trying to visualize the inner structure of what a chest should look like, as she had been taught. She willed the ribs to knit back together, forming the dome of the chest wall. She then moved her attention to the spongy material of the lungs. Forcing the rips and punctures to fuse together and then pushing the blood up and out of the lungs through the man's mouth. A large amount of blood pooled on the bed beside Mesh. She continued casting her strongest healing spells.

She then remembered the strong damage health effects of the potion. She switched over to cure poison spells. The colour gradually returned to Henantiers lips and fingers. He was still unconscious and probably would be for some time, but his breathing had steadied and a small moan came from his lips.

More steps up the stairs and Kud-Ei, Marz and a handful of guards came running back up the stairs. Marz took over and caste some strong convalescence spells to finish the job. Kud-Ei stood in the corner biting her nails. When Marz had finished with Henantier she waved the guards off and complimented Mesh on her handy work.

"It's a good thing you know what you're doing, Mesh. He just barely made it… Just." She sighed and pulled a chair over next to the bed for Kud-Ei. "He'll be alright. Mesh, I think you've earned the right to start working as a healer. I'll write you up a ticket and we can get you started with real patients." She smiled at the wide grin spreading across Mesh's face.

"And I think you've more then earned a recommendation from me. I can't thank you enough for saving my friend." Kud-Ei was holding Henantier's hand, massaging it gently as the altmer mage slowly regained consciousness. He awoke to find three women clustered around his bed, two argonian and one milk-white dunmer. One look at their faces and he groaned, throwing his free hand over his face. The three women smiled; at least he had the sense to know when he was in trouble.

**Fredas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Hackdirt, Cyrodiil.**

Modryn crouched silently a moment listening. He couldn't hear anything in the cavern save for the faint echo of dripping water and other cavern noises. He caste a clumsy light spell, hardly stronger then the light of a candle. He knew a bit of illusion magic, but was hardly proficient with it. He held the small ball of light in his palm, covering it slightly with his other hand, trying not to attract any attention.

He appeared to be in a sort of make shift cellar. Keeping his back to the wall, he walked softly down the tunnel connecting the cellar to a larger chamber. He shook his light out and peered around the corner. In the corners of the chamber there were torches set in stands.

There were three imperial men patrolling the main chamber, or just wandering aimlessly, it was hard for Modryn to tell. They were rough looking. Wearing only ratty looking sackcloth pants. They were armed with spiked clubs, clumsy looking weapons. Modryn pulled his steel mace from its strap at his side. The polished oak hilt felt good in his fist. He grinned menacingly.

At the far end of the chamber was a large cage. He spotted the Dar-Ma huddled in one of its far corners. When the three men had wandered to one of the further corners of the chamber Modryn made a low run over to the cage. He spaced his steps wide and stepped lightly, so as to make the least amount of noise possible. He tapped gently on the bars to get the argonian girl's attention.

"Oh thank goodness. Please, you've got to get me out of here. I think these people plan on doing something horrible to me tonight." Modryn wasn't good at reading argonian body languages, but the girl sounded frightened. That was all he needed to know.

"Alright. Just hang on. I'm going to deal with these men and then we'll get you out of here." He turned around to leave and then had a thought. He turned back to Dar-Ma. "You… ah… May not want to watch this." He shrugged and grinned sheepishly as her red eyes went wide.

He turned and stood up. He saw no further reason for stealth. He liked to look his opponents in the eye before tearing their flesh from bone. He broke into a dead run towards the nearest of the men. His back was turned towards Modryn. That wouldn't do. Modryn felt the need to warn the man of the impending fight.

"Die cur!" He leapt at the man as the other stumbled back swinging his club up to block Modryn's backhand swing. His swing sent the imperial's club flying out of his hand. Modryn brought his mace back around tearing across his throat. The man dropped like a dead weight, his blood spilling in a shower as he fell.

Modryn leapt over the body meeting the next two men. They had screamed a warning of intruder before Modryn had time to dispatch them. He sidestepped a swing from the first planting his mace square in the back of his chest. There was a gurgle noise and Modryn threw him to the ground, wrenching his mace from its mark.

The second man wasn't as hasty in his attack. He crouched down low holding the club out defensively. He seemed content to hold off the invader until help arrived. Modryn wasn't about to stand around until he was out numbered. Raising his hand he summoned his ancestor guardian. A vortex of violet light appeared under a black void and a ghost appeared. It moved towards the imperial man.

As the man turned to face the spirit Modryn swung his mace into the side of his head. He felt the bone crush against the force of his swing. With the help of his ancestor guardian he managed to take out ten more of the men. None of them were very skilled, but their numbers were annoying. It felt like he was taking out the entire town of Hackdirt.

When the chamber was still once more he stood silently, listening. When he was content that there would be no further attacks he made his way back to Dar-Ma. He kept a firm hold of his mace, just in case. He dug a bloody key from the pocket of one of the fallen men and freed Dar-Ma. He led her back to the trap door he had originally slipped though.

Once back on the surface he led her to her horse. She gave the animal an affectionate hug and climbed on. Modryn stretched his arms out behind his head and yawned. It's been a while since he's spilled blood. It felt good to be working again, even if it would probably be a long time before he got a chance to do it again. He led Dar-Ma back to Chorrol in a good mood. Funny how killing things made him so happy.


	7. Chapter 7

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 7******

**Sundas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Cheydinhal, Cyrodiil.**

The wheels of the old farm cart rattled loudly as they passed over the bridge spanning the gap of the Upper Niben. Mesh had long ago given up chatting with the farmer and his wife. An elderly Breton couple who had graciously let her ride in the back of their hay cart to Cheydinhal.

The couple was probably grateful for the break in conversation anyway. She couldn't help but grin and chatter. She had been waving her healer's ticket through the air in a girlish fashion since leaving Bravil and couldn't help but show it off at every chance she got.

She wrote home to her foster parents in Water's Edge to tell them of her success and adventures. She left out the part about still wanting to be a famous healer. Was it really so bad that she wanted the world to know who she was?

The cart rocked to a stop in front of the Black Waterside Stables. Mesh hopped down and through the old man a small pouch of septims. She grinned and waved them off. Still waving her paper through the air she skipped through the Cheydinhal city gates. She gave the guards a toothy grin and made her way to the chapel, and then the mage's guild.

Mesh strolled through the mage's guild front door and found herself staring at a man's chest, adorned with a very lavish burgundy overcoat. She looked up to find to very aggressive looking blue altmer eyes drilling through her skull. She froze, not sure what to do or say. The smile vanished from her face.

"Well? What do you want? I suppose you've come looking for a recommendation." He snapped at her. When she couldn't find her voice she just nodded in reply. He rolled his eyes and begun walking away, she realized she had been holding her breath since meeting those cold blue eyes.

"Another useless associate. They'll let anyone join the guild these days. Fine!" He spun around to face her again. And again she held her breath. "If you want a recommendation from me you can do something useful and go find one of your, equally useless, guild-mates. I sent Vidkun up to the dark fissure to deliver some soul gems. He hasn't returned. Go find him. And make sure those soul gems were delivered!"

When she tried to ask further questions about the task he just snarled at her and slapped his finger against a map, indicating that the dark fissure was located south east of Cheydinhal, a short way up the Valus Mountains. He was still watching her as she turned away from the map so she sidestepped out the door hastily. She wasn't three steps from the door when an argonian woman stopped her.

"Hello, I'm Deetsan, I'm sorry you caught Falcar in one of his moods." Deetsun looked over her shoulder as she led Mesh away from the guildhall. "Look, I'm not altogether sure what you'll find at the dark fissure. Vidkun has been missing for two days now. I'm worried. Do you have any sort of weapon? Are you any good with destruction magics? Mesh shook her head no, her eyes wide.

"Hmm… here, then, take this." Deetsan handed Mesh a polished silver dagger. "I'm not sure if you'll need it, but better to be prepared." Mesh took the dagger with a shaky hand and tucked it in her belt. Deetsan patted her on the back and sent her on her way.

The sun was hot and the mountainside was steep. Darrowmesh had to stop several times for a rest as she climbed up towards the dark fissure. She found herself wishing she had brought something to drink. She was nearly at the top when she heard faint voices.

Remembering the dagger at her hip she opted not to call out a cheerful greeting and instead crouched low against the cliff face. She moved forwards slowly towards a cluster of stones. The voices were getting closer; she could make out a few snatches of the conversation.

"What of the boy?"

"… for Him to decide… …will do for now."

"And the gems… … altar at midnight… soul trap him… worm thrawl…"

The voices grew distant again and Mesh heard the sound of a door click shut. She poked her white nose above the line of stone and scanned the small plateau. Both men had left. At the center of the clearing was a white stone alter with a red cloth draped over the middle. Past the altar was a small door in the side of the mountain. Not another cave, she groaned. Vidkun must be in there somewhere. And if those men had been talking about him it didn't sound promising for his immediate future.

Quietly she darted out from her hiding place and made a silent dash for the door. She flattened herself against the rock and slowly pulled at the latch. She slid in through the opening and closed the door silently hoping nobody had seen the sliver of light from the open door. Once she was sure she was alone in the chamber she caste a weak light spell. She took the right path on a whim and began working her way deeper into the cave's tunnels.

She didn't have to go far before she started seeing torches lit along the path. She extinguished her light and crept slowly along the path. There was a horrible smell coming from deeper down the tunnel. Like meat left out in the summer sun. She pulled the neck of her grey robe up to cover her mouth and nose and continued.

She rounded a corner and found herself staring at someone's back. That someone was wearing a black robe and had a heavy looking silver mace at her hip. Mesh drew in a quiet breath. Necromancers. She was dealing with necromancers. Fear began creeping up her spine. These people wouldn't just kill her, they would trap her soul, kill her and then use her body for gods only knew what.

She pondered a moment on the best course of action. The woman was in her way. She had to get by to find Vidkun. She couldn't just leave him here with these… monsters. She pulled the dagger from her belt and quietly snuck up behind the woman. She'd never actually been in a fight before, let alone tried to kill someone, so she was rather unsure of how to proceed with the woman. She decided the neck would be as good a place as any to start.

She stood up quietly. The woman in front of her gave a little cough and went on leaning against the rock wall, oblivious to the dagger just inches from her neck. Mesh gave the dagger a little mid-air wiggle, not sure what to do, and then sort of forcefully tapped it against the woman's skin. It was one thing to want someone dead, quite another to actually accomplish. The blade pierced her skin slightly. The woman started, gave a yelp and turned around quickly wondering what had bit her.

"You! You'll regret that, brat!" The woman's face was contorted with rage as she rubbed the back of her stinging neck. Mesh leapt back as a glowing red hand shot out towards her. The next instant she was hit by a hot blast of pink magic; a soul trap spell. In a blind panic now Mesh closed her eyes tight and jutted out her arm, dagger firmly clenched in her fist. Her hand met a bit of resistance and there was a small yelp.

Suddenly there was a dead weight hanging from the dagger and she let go. She peeked out through one eye to see the woman collapsed on the floor, a dagger buried deep in her left eye. Mesh turned to the side and lost her breakfast behind a boulder.

**Sundas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Modryn sat with his boots on the guildhall's table. He idly clicked the toes of his boots together while sipping at an ale. It was a bit early still to be drinking, but he couldn't help it. The new boot, Maglir had walked in about fifteen minutes ago and was still whining to Vilena. He knew it was only a matter of time before she gave up and passed the little fetcher off to him to deal with.

He used his free hand to spread out the papers on the table and shuffle around for an easy contract to pass off on the wining bosmer. He found what he was looking for. Something nice and easy; a man named Brenus Astis had contracted them to find his journal. He lost it out in fallen rock cave. A scholar or something… Modryn didn't really care. The cave was full of rats and maybe the odd skulking skeleton. Nothing a five year old couldn't handle.

He took another swig of ale when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. The sulking bosmer stood in front of Modryn. Wordlessly he waited for whatever would be handed to him. He looked pitiful. Modryn had no sympathy for the man. He'd have to learn the meaning of hard work soon or end up dead. Modryn slid the paper across the table.

"Get it done, boot." He took another swig of ale keeping his eyes on Maglir. If he were smart he'd ask for details. He didn't. Modryn wasn't surprised. Maglir walked out the front door, shoulders hunched over. Modryn shrugged and finished off his ale.

He was just getting to his feet when the door opened again. An agitated bosmer in a long blue robe walked in. He slammed the door behind himself and headed up the stairs. Modryn rolled his eyes. Not another one. He could hear the bosmer man's agitated voice and Vilena's calmer voice. A moment later and the man came storming back down the stairs. He turned his little heard from side to side, spotted Modryn and stomped over.

"You Modryn Oreyn?" Modryn nodded, amused. "I'm Argoth. Wizard. I need you to find an artifact for me. " He folded his arms looking impatient. Modryn waved him into a chair and opened his contract-listing book. He flipped over to a blank page and started running through the various sections to be filled out.

"Alright then… What kind of artifact are we looking for; I'll need as much detail as you can give me. And where can we find it? Was it lost or has it yet to be found?" He looked up at the mage, quill hovering over the book's page.

"It's an elven crafted sword called the "Sinweaver". And it was stolen. Some crazy mage by the name of Azani Blackheart." Modryn looked up. Well this complicates things.

"Alright. I'm going to need details on the mage then. I need to know where he is, if he's got help and what kind. Experienced warriors or just a bunch of stupid thugs." Modryn scratched his quill against the parchment as Argoth filled him in on the details surrounding Blackheart. It sounded like it might be a tough job. He would need a large sized group to handle this one.

Once Argoth had left, Modryn thumbed through his member listing. He picked out twenty of his best men and started writing out letters to each requesting they show up to the Leyawiin guildhall for the contract. Once completed, he set them in the stack to be sent out with the courier. Finding nothing more to do he tipped his chair back on two legs propped his feet back up on the table and hoped not to see another bosmer for the rest of the day.


	8. Chapter 8

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 8******

**Sundas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Dark Fissure, Cyrodiil.**

Mesh was moving down the span of the tunnel once more. She had recovered from the initial shock of killing and managed to pull her dagger out of the deceased's skull without losing anymore of her stomach's contents. Upon further reflection she decided she was damned lucky to still be alive. Had that woman been expecting a real fight she'd probably be dead right now. The necromancer hadn't even pulled out her mace. If she had… well, she swallowed hard and vowed she wouldn't make another stupid mistake.

She came to a large chamber. In the middle of the chamber there was a set of wide, crumbled stairs leading down to a lower level. She couldn't tell what was at the bottom of the stairs from where she was crouched, but she could see two necromancers standing next to a stone table on the other side of the chamber. It looked as if there was something wriggling on the table. She squinted her eyes and held a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare of the torches.

It must be Vidkun. It looked like a young man. Tied at the wrists and ankles. By the muffled sounds she guessed he was gagged as well. Most likely for the sake of peace and quiet, rather then for the sake of security. Nobody would hear the boy's cries for help this deep in the mountain. She would have to dispatch the two necromancers quietly. She was no match for the whole nest of them.

She dropped her hand down to the floor and sifted around for a small stone. Ducking behind a boulder in the shadows she threw the stone at the near by wall. It hit the wall with a loud crack and skipped down the tunnel a couple times sending a loud echo at each skip. She waited, not daring to look up to see if she had attracted any attention or not.

It seemed like forever before she heard approaching footsteps. A woman walked slowly by, head turning this way and that. A redguard woman, her face shielded from view by a heavy black hood. Once the woman had passed by the boulder Mesh stepped out silently and mustered up as much aggression as she could. She threw her clenched fist forward, tightly gripping the dagger and buried it in the back of the woman's head. She dropped quickly landing with a thud.

Mesh dragged the body back around the boulder and wiggled the woman free of her robe. It smelled of dead things, but she put it on anyway. She gagged slightly putting on the bloodied hood, but managed to get her heaving stomach under control. Making sure the hood was on low she bowed her head and walked out towards the other one.

The second necromancer was a tall altmer man. He was tracing strange symbols across Vidkun's naked chest. At her approach he turned.

"Well… What was it? Rats?" He looked disinterested and wasn't really paying her any attention. She shrugged in reply, keeping her head down. He held a hand out towards her, holding what looked like a jar of black tar. Without thinking she reached out to take it from him, exposing her white hand, fingers stained from potion making.

The altmer dropped the jar of black goo giving a small cry of surprise. He leapt back and threw a fireball towards her. She dove to the right and raised her hand to summon her ancestor guardian. He threw a soul trap spell, hitting her square in the chest. She glowed pink. He leapt to the side dogging the attack from her ghost. He recovered and advanced, swinging a mace towards her chest.

"The Worm King will claim your soul, you will be another puppet in his collection!" He laughed like a maniac. Mesh ducked under his swing and spun around behind him. She held her dagger in both hands and took a dive at the man's back. She landed on him, the dagger plunging into his shoulder. He screamed and kicked her off, dagger still buried in his shoulder. She landed on her back in the dirt.

While he was spinning around trying to shake the dagger free from his shoulder Mesh started throwing rocks at him. Not the most heroic of weapon choices, but it's all she had, not knowing any destruction magic. One of the small stones hit the man's injured shoulder, bouncing off the dagger's hilt. The necromancer yelped, furious now. He backed up a few paces and started casting a large frost storm spell.

A wall of blue light, speckled with white dots of concentrated cold air shot towards her. She folded her legs up to her chest, tucked her head down and held her breath. She stuck her hand out and caste the strongest reflect spell she could manage. The wall of frost was sent spinning back towards the necromancer. He was struck full on by his own spell. He dropped to the ground shivering uncontrollably covered in a layer of frost. His skin was tight and red, blue in spots where frostbite had set in instantly.

Mesh leapt up and pulled her hand into the sleeve of her black robe. She used the cloth as a sort of mitten and drew the dagger from the altmer's shoulder. Frozen bits of flesh tore off, clinging to the icy blade. She plunged it into his chest, finishing him off.

She them moved to Vidkun. She cut through the robes binding him in place and caste a mild convalescence spell on him, healing the few nicks and bumps he had acquired. He sat up and pulled the gag from his mouth.

"Thanks! I thought I was a dead man for sure there! Who are you, anyway?" He swung his legs around the side of the table and stood up stiffly.

"I'm Darrowmesh. Falcar sent me to find you; he said you were supposed to deliver some soul gems. What happened?" She began trying to work the frozen necromancer out of his robes. They could use the robes to disguise themselves as necromancers and make their escape.

"Well, Falcar wanted me to deliver the soul gems to that big alter out front of the cave. He said some mages from the university were doing some work out here and needed them. I guess nobody realized that necromancers had taken up residence here." Mesh paused a moment, she remembered something the necromancer had said.

"Do you know what 'worm king' or 'thrawl' means? The necromancer said something about a worm king." She waggled the altmer's arm some more, finally managing to get it free of the sleeve. She handed the robe over to Vidkun. He scrunched his nose up at it, but accepted it anyway. He looked thoughtful as he gingerly slid into the still cold and bloody robe.

"No, I don't know what that means… but I'll ask Falcar about it when we get back to Cheydinhal." He must have noticed Mesh's look of disgust. He chuckled. "Oh, I guess you caught Falcar on a bad day huh? He's not always so grouchy and he knows a lot of stuff about everything. I'll bet he knows everything about the necromancers." Vidkun nodded and offered a knowing grin. He seemed to think highly of the archmagister. Maybe Mesh really had just caught him on an off day.

The two associate mages made it out the cave incognito. They made their way down the side of the mountain and back to town. It was dark, the city's lanterns glowing, as they walked through the gates. Their feet dragged along the ground and their mouths were bone dry, they didn't have the energy to reply to the friendly greetings of the city guards.

Mesh leaned against the side of the guildhall doors, almost falling through. Vidkun followed and was immediately rushed by a concerned Deetsan. They were both given food and drink.

"Well?" A gruff voice from behind them interrupted the feast, "What happened?" Falcar stood at the top of the stairs staring down at them. His arms crossed and an impatient look on his face.

"Sir!" Vidkun dropped the forkful of mutton back to his plate, "Necromancers! There were necromancers up at the dark fissure, someone has got to warn those mage scholars."

Mesh watched Falcar closely from behind her glass of wine. He didn't look surprised, but he looked concerned or maybe just thoughtful. A moment passed and Falcar shifted his gaze over to meet Mesh's, only for a moment. Mesh quickly dropped her eyes to the table and took a large gulp of wine.

"Yes… yes, someone will have to warn the… scholars. Of course. I'll see to that personally." Mesh could still feel Falcar staring at her so she helped herself to more wine, trying to look innocent. Falcar continued, blissfully returning his attention to Vidkun.

"As long as you've delivered the gems. It is good to see that you are… unharmed, of course. You may return to your regular duties tomorrow." He turned his attention back towards Mesh.

"And you. I suppose I owe you a recommendation. You have it. Will you be staying?" He sounded almost hopeful. Mesh felt an odd little creeping feeling run down her spine, like a small red flag waving frantically across her mind.

"Uh… no, thank you… sir. I'd like to continue on to Bruma in the morning. I'd like to get my next recommendation." She looked up cautiously at the altmer. It looked as if he were expecting more, her mind raced for an excuse. "And I have, umm… family expecting me." His eyes narrowed and one eyebrow shot up. He probably knew she was lying, but it didn't matter. She wasn't staying.

She took some time early the next morning to speak with her guild-mates. All Mesh could do for Vidkun was wish the young nord well. He seemed oblivious to the peculiarities surrounding Falcar and promised to ask him about the worm king and thrawls.

She spoke to Deetsan next and thanked her for the use of the dagger.

"No, no. You keep it." The argonian smiled at her, pushing the dagger back. "You never know, maybe you'll have use for it again." She gave Mesh a quick hug and stood back. Mesh tucked the dagger back in her belt and swung her bags over her shoulder.

She left the city of Cheydinhal with a heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Walking down the Black Road she couldn't help but feel as if the Cheydinhal mage's hadn't seen the last of the necromancers. She shrugged her shoulders and continued on towards Bruma, determined to put as much distance as possible between herself and Falcar.


	9. Chapter 9

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 9******

**Mondas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****The Heartlands, Silver Road.**

**Cyrodiil.**

The sun was bright and warm against Darrowmesh's back. She turned her white nose up towards a blue sky dotted with friendly white clouds. The warm breeze carried the sweet scent of dry grass and summer flowers. It was a beautiful day to be hiking up the Silver Road to Bruma.

Or it would have been for anyone else. No matter how warm the breeze blew or how brightly the sun shone, Mesh couldn't shake the cold chill running up her spine. She seemed to shiver harder with each step she took closer to the Bruma mage's guild.

It seemed each of her guild recommendations thus far involved some form of danger. What would she have to do when she reached Bruma? Fight off ogres with a broom? No matter what faced her, she had decided it was time to learn some destruction magic.

As she passed the turn off to the Orange Road the air began to grow colder. She was climbing higher towards the Jerall Mountains and the County of Bruma. She wrapped her cloak tightly about her shoulders and continued her slow pace up the mountain slope.

She was promptly knocked from her daydreams as something hard and cold struck her in the shoulder immediately followed by a large clap of thunder. Mesh spun around and pulled her dagger loose. With her free hand she checked for any damage to her stinging shoulder. Her hand came away dripping bright pink. Pink? Her whole body seemed to be glowing.

As Mesh scanned the area she thought she heard the faint sound of raspy laughter. Out of the corner of her eye, to the left, she saw a bright pink object come flying towards her. She dove to the side and threw out her hand, sending a weak paralyze spell hurtling though the air with a hiss.

A ball of bright pink snow splattered to the ground just a couple feet from her. At the same time, there was a yelp and a thud from behind a bush not far off. Mesh sprang to her feet and rushed forwards, following the path her ball of crackling red light had taken. Her dagger ready just incase.

Lying on his side was a Khajiit, tangled in a tattered brown robe, holding his sides and laughing. Her paralysis spell had obviously worn off quickly. Mesh put her dagger away and put her hands on her hips. Boys. No matter what shape their face, they're all the same.

"By the Nine! What are you doing throwing enchanted snowballs around like that? Someone's going to throw a fireball back, and then where will you be?" She glared at the man, two red eyes drilling into the side of his skull. He looked up at her and started laughing harder.

"I'm sorry… Please don't be angry." He managed to catch a breath and sat up; two rows of teeth showing through a wide grin. "It was just a joke." He looked up at her and exploded into more laughter, rolling back over onto his side and slapping the ground.

"You should have seen your face!" He gasped, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." The khajiit managed to get up to his feet, holding his hands out in defense. He was taller then Mesh had expected. He was also the friendliest khajiit Mesh had ever seen; she found her anger melting away and smiled.

"I'm Darrowmesh." She held a hand out towards the man. "I'm heading up to Bruma." Her new friend shook her hand, wide grin still in place.

"My name's J'skar. I'm headed to Bruma as well. I want to join the mages guild."

"I'm going to the mage's guild too! You want to come up with me?"

The two formed a quick friendship and headed up what was left of the Silver Road together. Mesh found the other's company comforting and forgot all about her troubles of the previous guild recommendations.

That is until the two reached the doors to the Bruma guildhall. Mesh hesitated a moment on the doorstep. J'skar didn't even notice the pause. He had been chatting nonstop since they had met. Mesh swallowed hard and pushed the big double doors open expecting the worst.

**Mondas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Leyawiin, Cyrodiil.**

The air was thick with the sound of armor and weapons being dropped one upon the other and the voices of men and women shouting to one another. The late morning sun glinted off both armor and weapons. Over all the atmosphere of the small area in front of the Leyawiin fighter's guild was one of excited confusion. Modryn had assembled twenty of his best warriors for the Argoth contract. It had been a while since they had one this big.

Modryn tried to tune out the sound of the shouts and chatter as he searched for his clipboard. He was sure he had put it right here on the guildhall steps. He kicked a gigantic silver war hammer out of the way and shuffled through a pile of iron cuirasses, sending them to the ground in a crash.

He looked up as a large orc stepped over him with ease, scooping up the war hammer as if it were no heavier then a loaf of bread. Modryn snarled at his back. Where was his clipboard? Finally he gave up. He straightened and scanned the square for his second, Vitellus. Cupping his hands around his mouth he shouted over to him.

"Vitellus, how many marksmen did I assign to your team?" Vitellus looked up and scanned the many faces for the source of the call. Modryn waved him over.

"Ah… I think you gave me Denegor and Jena. I could use one more, though, we have six of them, right? I could also use a few more heavies. I only have the one orc, Mug gro-Sharob."

Modryn turned to face the crowd of warriors and tried a quick head count. Everyone was running around tending to weapons and suiting up, it was impossible for Modryn to keep tabs on anyone. Finally, what little patience the dunmer possessed ran dry.

"Enough!" He screamed, his voice breaking. Immediately everyone in the square stopped moving and talking; all eyes on him. "I want everyone to form up into your teams. My team over here to the right next to "Southern Books" and Vitellus' team to my left. Line up according to your class. Move. Now." He clapped his hands curtly, snarling at the chaotic mass of bodies.

There was a moment or two of absolute chaos as all twenty men and women clashed together trying to get into position. During the mad rush Modryn looked up and noticed he was being watched. In the shadows surrounding the Blackwood Company's door stood a khajiit. As soon as Modryn made eye contact with the man he slipped back within his guildhall. Modryn shrugged off the encounter and turned his attention back towards the now ordered square.

There were a few people standing in the middle of the square looking lost. They still needed to be assigned a team. Modryn sighed with relief at the silence and began organizing the two teams.

Once everything was settled, teams organized, weapons sharpened, armor fitted, and gear packed they started out towards the Aylied ruin of Arpenia. It was situated about halfway up the Yellow Road between Leyawiin and the Mouth of the Panther.

The sky grew darker as large thunderclouds moved in overhead. A light rain began to fall and a low laying fog rolled across the road in front of them. Modryn didn't mind the rain; it kept the dust down and had a way of subduing traveling warriors. The chatter was kept to a minimum, the sound of armored boots and shuffling cuirasses drowning out the sound of the river to their left.

Modryn had his men stop on the road near what looked like an old Daedric shrine. He sent a couple scouts on ahead to search for any of Azani Blackheart's henchmen. He then turned to wave Vitellus up to the front.

"All right. This is it. We'll move in first to secure the grounds around the ruins, have your team move up behind us to cover the door. Kill anyone coming out. Once we have the parameter secure we'll move both teams in. Questions?" Vitellus shook his head no and Modryn gave him a quick clap on the back and sent him back to his team to give orders.

The scouts returned reporting a few lazy guards leaning against pillars and huddling under any cover they could find against the rain, but other then that it was quiet. Modryn waved the two teams forward. They moved up past the Daedric shrine approaching Arpenia from the south slope rather then from the road.

Modryn signaled for Vitellus' team to hold back and rushed forward with his own team. The attack was unexpected. The guards jumped to their feet, clumsily unsheathing weapons. Modryn backhanded his mace across a nord's face relieving the man of his flesh and half his skull. He side stepped a swing from a silver claymore and sunk his mace into a redguard woman's back.

He signaled his men to spread out around the ruin and search for more guards. Vitellus' team was already moving into position around the door. The sound of weapons clashing and men and women shouting rang through the fog. It wouldn't take long for word of the attack to travel to the rogue mage Azani Blackheart.

Once the two teams had regrouped Modryn led them into the ruin. They moved into the short entrance hall and moved down the stairs into the wider receiving chamber. Their presence was no longer a surprise so they were met with organized resistance. A wall of fireballs and enchanted arrows flew towards his men. They quickly ducked behind a row of stone benches, shields held overhead to shelter them from spells and arrows.

The marksmen let loose a volley of arrows in return fire and screams of pain were heard as they found their marks. The heavier fighters rushed forward, battleaxes, war hammers and claymores swinging, sending a shower of blood to the stone floor. As Modryn rushed forward he counted three of his men on the floor lying in a pool of blood. Damn.

They pushed their way to the next large chamber where they were met, yet again, by a sizable force of experienced battlemages and spellswords. Again, Modryn's men took cover where they could find it and waited for the sound of spells to cease. The large chamber was lit up with multiple colours as all types of spells were thrown towards them, the thunderous sounds echoed against the chamber's high walls and ceiling.

Modryn glanced over to his left. Vitellus glanced up from his cover and gave him a crooked half smile. His face was patched with dust and blood. Modryn scanned the faces of the other men and women crouched down against pillars and benches avoiding the blasts of spells. They looked a little worse for wear, but otherwise determined. Modryn grinned, waited for a break in the onslaught, and rushed head on into the fight.


	10. Chapter 10

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 10******

**Mondas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****Bruma, Cyrodiil.**

Mesh looked around the foyer of the dimly lit Bruma guildhall. J'skar was at her side again, shoving the heavy oak doors closed behind them, still going on about the advantages of knowing a good invisibility spell. Mesh tuned him out, completely on edge, ready for anything.

Nothing happened. A Breton woman stood behind the counter directly in front of them. She was in the middle of a conjuration spell of some sort. While Mesh usually found conjuration fascinating to watch, she found herself focusing on the woman's hair instead. Even J'sakr had fallen silent, staring at the bright green hair.

A scamp appeared from the void and the woman was free to give the new comers her attention. She offered the two stunned associates an embarrassed smile and walked around the counter to greet them.

"Hello!" She said cheerfully despite the green hair, "You must be new here. I'm Jeanne Frasoric. I'm head of the Bruma mage's guild. You'll have to excuse the hair." She waved a hand and giggled. "I'm really not sure how it happened, it seems to be a new colour everyday. But what can I do for you two?" She smiled, ignoring the stares and slack jaws facing her.

"Uh… I'm here for a recommendation please." Mesh closed her mouth and made a great effort to stop staring at the hair.

"And I'd like to join the guild… I think." J'skar looked as if he didn't know weather to laugh or run.

"Oh!" Jeanne's face brightened. "We always have room for new members!" She turned to face Mesh. "And if you can find a solution to my hair problems I should gladly send a glowing recommendation off for you. Why don't the two of you take some time to meet the others? I'll be here if you need me."

Mesh gave J'skar a shove towards the stairs to the right and the two made a hasty retreat before J'skar could break into uncontrollable laughter. They fell through the door in a fit of giggles almost sending a tall slim altmer man flying.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" He shouted; trying not to drop any of the many pink bottles he was carrying in his arms. He eyed them suspiciously. Mesh decided that he was rather attractive for an altmer. His hair was a golden colour, falling loosely to his shoulders. Faint creases, betraying his age, framed his deep brown eyes. He was smartly dressed in a green suit jacket and light blue pants.

"Oh, excuse us. We were just admiring the archmagister's hair." Mesh giggled and grinned. "I'm Darrowmesh and this is my friend J'skar. We're new here." She grinned up at the man. He smiled, all suspicion vanishing from his bright eyes. He shifted his armful of bottles around and offered a quick hand to Mesh, which she shook.

"Ah, well then, I'm Volanaro. Evoker. It's a pleasure to meet you both. You… er… like what the archmagister's done with her hair then?" He chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "Not that I know anything about it, of course, but it's an improvement over yesterday's pink." He laughed again and turned to leave, sauntering smugly into an alchemy lab to the right.

Mesh raised an eyebrow and watched J'skar follow after Volanaro. There was something about the way Volanaro spoke of Jeanne's hair problems that led Mesh to believe he knew more then he was letting on. She shrugged after a moment. So Jeanne's hair was green. For once nobody's life was in danger.

She explored a few of the rooms and found a book titled "The Art Of War Magic". She settled down on one of the beds to learn a thing or two about destruction magic.

There was always something comforting about books. The pages' scent of ink and parchment, the texture of the leather cover, the sound of pages turning; they all combined to form the most comforting and relaxing experience for any mage. Mesh found herself gradually falling into the first restful sleep she's had in a long time.

Mesh woke with a start. The room was dark; her candle had burned out. She wasn't sure what time it was. The hall outside was dark as well, but she thought she caught the faint sound of footsteps passing her door. She sat up and crept to the door. She could see two shadows moving in the dark. She made a quick decision to follow.

Volanaro and J'skar seemed to be in the middle of a hushed argument of some sort as they snuck up to the main floor of the guildhall.

"I want to see blue." J'skar hissed, "Can you make stripes?"

"I did blue last week. I've never tried stripes, but I can double up a few colours. Let's try yellow and orange."

"Blue and yellow. Do blue, I don't care if you did blue last week, I wasn't here last week!" J'skar was hushed by a quick wave from Volanaro. They had reached the top of the stairs and were standing outside Jeanne's bedroom. The two crouched in the doorframe. Mesh flattened herself against the stairs to watch.

Volanaro reached his hand forward and aimed at Jeanne's sleeping figure. His arm began to glow blue faintly, the light gradually growing brighter. As the light brightened it seemed to begin flowing down towards his hand condensing into a small ball of blue and white light. Suddenly Volanaro released the ball of magic and sent it forwards. The ball of light hit Jeanne's pillow causing it to glow momentarily. There was stifled laughter from both men.

Mesh quickly slid down the stairs and hid behind a chest. The two jokers passed right by, hands covering their mouths and shoulders quivering with suppressed laughter. Once she heard the click of the oak door shutting behind them she slipped back up the stairs and cast a quick dispel on Jeanne's pillow, and just for good measure cast one on Jeanne herself.

It was early morning and Mesh was busy chatting with Selena Orania about the pros and cons of dried versus fresh ingredients in potion making. J'skar and Volanaro were hovering by the bookcases. Mesh smiled, she could guess at what they were waiting for.

Moments later Jeanne came bounding down the stairs, her gold hair, neatly pulled back in a pony twist, bounced behind her. She was grinning madly. J'skar and Volanaro looked as if their eyes might pop out at any moment.

"Darrowmesh! I don't know how you did it, but thank you! Oh it's so nice to have my hair back to normal. I'll send you that glowing recommendation off straight away!" Mesh smiled and nodded and then turned to give the two dumb struck men a cocky grin. She excused herself from Selena and headed down to the living quarters.

She wasn't alone long. J'skar and Volanaro came bursting through the door. J'skar's ears drooped as he pouted, disappointed that the joke didn't last. Volanaro looked a bit more apprehensive.

"How did you know? You're not going to tell her are you? It was just a prank."

Mesh held her hand out to silence the man. She shook her head slowly.

"No… I'm not going to tell. But you have to stop messing with her hair. You promise?" Volanaro pouted a moment and reluctantly agreed. He didn't have much choice. Mesh smiled. She dug into the pockets of her robe and pulled out a few bottles.

"Here, I don't want to be a complete spoil sport, so I made you a few potions." Volanaro's pout was replaced with curiosity and J'skar poked his head around the altmer's shoulder to get a good look as well. She pushed the small bottles towards her friends.

"Here, just pour these onto whatever you want to mess around with." She handed the bottles over one by one listing off their effects. "This one will cause things to slowly float upwards… This one here will… um… oh, this one will cause things to make popping noises." She giggled, "Can you imagine someone walking around with popping shoes?" The two men grinned, already plotting an attack on some poor innocent victim.

"These three are invisibility potions, and these four are stink potions, they'll last fifteen minutes each. Don't use them until I'm gone. And whatever you do, don't give me any credit for their creation!" Volanaro was grinning widely now, cradling his treasures carefully in his arms.

"Thank you, Mesh. I'll put these to good use. Is there anything I can do for you?" He seemed to genuinely want to return the favor, so Mesh thought a moment.

"Well… you wouldn't happen to know anything about destruction magic would you?" It couldn't hurt to ask, right? To her surprise a cocky grin slid across his face.

"My dear, you've come to the right man. Why don't we head outside? J'skar, you coming?"

The three of them headed outside and passed through the city gates a short ways. The city walls took quite a beating that morning. Volanaro being a journeyman of destruction was rather handy with elemental magic of all kinds. J'skar wasn't half bad either and she even managed to learn a thing or two about conjuration.


	11. Chapter 11

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 11**

**Mondas, Sun's Height. 3E 432. ****  
****The Nibenay Valley, Arpenia.  
Cyrodiil.**

The echo of battle cries tumbled from yet another of Arpenia's chambers, gradually leaving them standing in silence. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, blood and charred flesh. The chamber's walls were scorched in spots from stray fireballs. Shattered bits of steaming stone lay strewn across the floor, the after effect of frost spells. Among the debris Modryn counted another four fallen men from his ranks. That left him with just thirteen men to work with plus himself.

Modryn took a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing. He switched his mace over to his left hand and wiped the sweat from his palm off on his pants. He had his strongest warriors blocking off the northwest chamber exit with stone benches and debris. That left Blackheart with only two ways to get to them, the eastern and southwestern corridors. They were unlikely to be approached from the eastern side, that corridor was lined with two rows of dart traps. The southwestern corridor would lead them straight to Azani Blackheart.

Stepping over a fallen argonian mage, Modryn approached Vitellus. He and a couple other men were tending to a redguard woman's wounds. Modryn crouched down and laid a hand on the woman's shoulder. She rolled her eyes up at him and smiled sheepishly, but remained silent.

"She got caught by a couple darts. She'll be fine, sir." Vitellus didn't even look up; he was skillfully wrapping the woman's arm in a cotton bandage. It was times like these that Modryn wished more mages would take an interest in the fighter's guild. He could really use a healer right about now.

When it looked as if his men had caught their breath and were ready to press forward once again, Modryn took quick stock of the situation and his options. He had three of his men stay behind to cover the eastern corridor, a marksman and two other men clad in light armor and short swords. That left him with ten men to advance with. Hmm… he rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin.

"Vitellus, I'm going to split us into two teams again. When we enter the main chamber I want you, Mug gro-Sharob, Denegor, Hession, Do'Vassa, and Ulfgar Black-Nail to head to the right and move around back of the pillars. I'll take the rest and move around the left. We'll flank them and push them back."

"What about that side passage? I think there's one on the left as well." Vitellus was checking his gear as he talked; making sure his sword was loose at his hip and strapping a dagger to his left arm. Modryn nodded at his question.

"Leave Do'Vassa and Ulfgar Black-Nail to watch the passage on the right. I'll have…" Modryn looked back over his shoulder to look over the remaining men. "Mirisa?" He nodded towards the injured redguard woman. "Can you still shoot with that arm?"

"Yes sir! Not a problem. Vitellus patched me up good." She gave her arm a couple pats just to prove it.

"All right then, I'll have Mirisa and… hmm… Glasha gra-Gor cover the passage on the left. Although that passage doesn't lead anywhere, I don't expect Blackheart's men to be stupid enough to take it. Try to herd them into the western corridor. It's a dead end and we should be able to finish them off then." Vitellus nodded his understanding and the group of warriors split off.

Modryn and Vitellus moved up to take point followed by the heavy warriors, the orcs and the nords. The lighter equipped men next in line with the marksmen taking up position in the rear. At Modryn's word they rushed forward through the narrow corridor.

As soon as they broke into the main chamber they split off, Vitellus heading right and Modryn left. They pressed their backs to the pillars and waited for the cascade of spells and arrows to cease. Modryn rolled out from the safety of his cover and sprang up to introduce a man's gut to his mace. He watched as Vitellus spun out from behind his pillar to liberate a man from his head. Modryn grinned.

Crouching down momentarily as a claymore was swung high with the intention of taking his head off, Modryn pulled a dagger from his boot. He lunged forward and buried the dagger up to his palm into his assailant's belly while swinging his mace towards the back of another's neck. They were outnumbered by more then double.

Dropping another man, Modryn took a step back to survey the situation. They weren't making any headway. In fact, it looked as if they were being pushed back. Three more of Modryn's men had fallen.

Modryn was watching his men struggle to make headway when he heard someone shout behind him. He turned in time to see a Khajiit man spring towards him, a glowing short sword, nothing but a blur, swung at him. Modryn drew in a short breath and pulled hard to loose his mace. It was stuck in the chain mail of the fallen imperial at his feet.

A blur of steel flashed before his eyes and the Khajiit let out a feral scream and fell in two to either side. Vitellus spun around; steel armor dripping with the cat's blood. Modryn nodded a thanks and gave his mace one final pull, wrenching it free from the mail.

"This isn't working, Modryn!" Vitellus bellowed to be heard over the clashing of steel and iron. "We've lost another three, there are too many of them." Modryn looked around, buried his mace into the back of a man's head as he was rushing by.

"You're right. At this rate we'll be lucky to get out with our lives, never mind the artifact. Fall back to the previous chamber. We'll regroup there and get out of here." There was a brief moment of confusion as Modryn and Vitellus called to fall back, but the tired warriors didn't need to be told twice. Killing anyone that got in the way they made it back to the chamber.

"How can one small ruin hold so many men?" Vitellus gasped as he wrapped his arm around Mirisa's waste. Her leather armor was soaked in blood and she was having a hard time running in a straight line.

"I don't know. They must have been expecting us. Legion soldiers wouldn't be this prepared for an assault. We need to get out of here." Modryn looked over his shoulder and stopped, waiting for the rest of his men and women. He did a quick count as they ran by. There were only seven of them left, and most of them badly wounded.

Once they reached the larger of the chambers, only a short distance from the door, they met with more resistance. Damn. Blackheart's men must have taken the northern passages to cut them off. They ducked behind what cover they could find as destruction spells thundered by. Brightly coloured sparks of magicka danced and crackled off the wall showering them in sparks.

"Modryn, go around to the left. I'll cover your retreat." Vitellus gently passed Mirisa off to Modryn.

"Are you insane? You'll just get yourself killed. No!" Modryn snarled at the man, cutting off a protest, "I've lost quite enough men already today. We'll just have to pick them off. Lets go." Modryn, still cradling Mirisa against his side, dashed out from behind the large stone bench he had been using as cover. The others followed. They cut their way towards the door.

Fighting with Mirisa tucked against his ribs was a lot like dancing, Modryn realized, as he dipped her down and swung his mace hard against one of Blackheart's men. His ribs shattered under the force of the blow, blood sprayed from his mouth and his eyes bulged with pain. He looked down at Mirisa and grinned.

"Like to dance?" He asked her waggling his eyebrows and giving her a sideways cocky grin. Her eyebrows sprang up at the sudden unexpected humor, but she smiled weakly. It was a good sign; at least she was still with him.

Modryn turned around to make sure the rest of his men were following. Four of them rushed past, weapons a blur. That left two unaccounted for. Modryn looked back in search of Vitellus and Glasha gra-Gor. He spotted the two of them in the middle of a large group of Blackheart's men. Modryn quickly passed Mirisa to Do'Vassa with the order to get everyone out. As soon as Do'Vassa had Mirisa Modryn rushed towards the fight. He swung his mace into the back of a man's head, pulled it out and immediately buried it into another.

Glasha gra-Gor had a man in each meaty hand. She was swinging them as if they were clubs; her claymore lay shattered on the stone floor at her feet. She sent five men flying back with a swing from one screaming Breton man, and then five more with the imperial in the other fist. Men, however, make poor weapons. The men that had been knocked over sprang right back to their feet. Glasha gra-Gor's eyes went wide a moment and the two broken men were dropped to the ground. The tip of a bloody long sword was protruding from her chest. With one final display of orcish strength she spun around and crushed he attacker's skull between her palm and the stone wall. She collapsed to her knees and fell forward.

Modryn Screamed at Vitellus. Damn that man for not listening. He swung his mace madly at the solid wall of men before him. Vitellus grinned and screamed back.

"Go, I'll cover you. Get the others to safety. Go!" Vitellus was hacking away at the wall of men furiously, his sword a blur of bloodied metal. Modryn went right on swinging regardless of the other's advice. Vitellus knew damn well he wasn't going to just leave when there was someone he could be killing.

Modryn gritted his teeth and summoned his guardian. The spirit's frost spells echoed against the chambers vast walls. It added to the chaos of the room. Modryn spun down low scooping up another mace. He swung the two furiously. His wrists were beginning to ache from the recoil.

Vitellus was pushing the wall of men forward towards the door. That's it, almost there. He wasn't swinging the sword as fast anymore, but he was still cutting through the crowd. With one cleave he sliced through two men and dug into a third. He laughed. Modryn laughed along with him, sinking his two maces into a man, bits of flesh and insides hitting the floor in a rush.

Modryn had reached the steps; they had maybe eight men left to cut down. It would be easy. Modryn heaved the two maces over his head and brought one down hard on the top of an argonian's head, sending splinters of horn in every direction, the other he brought down along the front of an imperial, tearing his face and splitting him open vertically.

Vitellus split a man's skull in two from the top of his head to his chin and swung his sword back up lifting a man off the ground, cutting him in two. Modryn looked up, grinning at Vitellus. His grin was short lived as a short sword came rushing towards the young imperial's head. Modryn choked back on a scream.

The sword never made it to Vitellus' head, however, as a large frost spell from Modryn's guardian sent it spinning off to the left. It buried itself into the eye socket of a Breton woman, the previous owner of the sword on the floor, frozen and dead. The remaining handful of men was easy enough to pick off.

Modryn and Vitellus stood leaning against the stone wall laughing. Dead bodies surrounded them. Their chests heaved violently as they struggled to catch their breath. Their weapons hung loosely from their tired hands. Vitellus turned around and leaned his forehead against the cool surface of the stone wall and started to laugh. Modryn joined in, draping an arm over his forehead. What a fight that was.

"We made it, Modryn! I can't believe it. We actually beat the - " Vitellus cut his sentence short all of a sudden and made an odd gurgling noise. Modryn spun around, mace tightly grasped in his hand. An arrow protruded from Vitellus' back. He was clutching the small bit of shaft that stuck out from his chest.

"Wha..?" Blood began to trickle from the side of his mouth. His eyes rolled back and he staggered. Modryn couldn't believe what was happening. Weren't we just laughing over our victory? Isn't this where we get to return home for some well deserved ale?

He bent down beside Vitellus just in time. Another arrow came from the darkness and hit the stone wall where Modryn's head had been just moments ago. He heard shouts approaching from further down the corridor. What was left of Blackheart's army was advancing. Modryn hesitated for only a split second. He turned and ran for the door. More arrows hit the stone wall from somewhere in the dark.


	12. Chapter 12

___Notes___

_P'aedt,_

_First, thanks for the review, I honestly didn't think anyone was reading this!_

_About your continuity comment…_

I didn't mean to give the impression that the character didn't know any destruction magic at all, just that she didn't know anything powerful enough to be used as a weapon. She is a mage and knows some basic spells from each of the schools.

And to AllShallFade and FalseIncarnate, thanks for the reviews! It means a lot to me 

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 12******

**Tirdas, Last Seed. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

It was early in the evening when Darrowmesh passed through the Chorrol city gates. The two guards offered her a lazy nod and continued chatting. Something about the Oak and Crosier Inn. She took a moment to breath in the cool evening air and looked about her. She had come in through the North gate and found herself in a small town square. In the middle was a large oak tree, a few benches positioned around its wide trunk.

Mesh decided that since it was getting late she'd check in with the chapel healer in the morning. She turned towards the mage's guild. She gave a passing guard and a tall Altmer man with a bow a friendly nod on her way in.

Upon entering, she found herself standing in a modest sized hall, the decorative guild seal adorning the floor. The room was brightly lit; candlelight danced and flickered against the walls. Against the back wall was a short counter; a blue robed Argonian mage stood leaning against its surface, reading a large violet leather bound book, tail slowly moving back and forth. In the middle of the floor stood a comical looking Bosmer man in the middle of summoning a scamp. Mesh took a step back as an older Altmer man, also clad in blue mage's robe, strode passed and ducked into an alchemy lab to the left.

It looked to be a rather busy guildhall, and maybe a bit too small for the boisterous activity of its occupants. Mesh cleared her throat. The Argonian looked up from his book, finally noticing her. He closed the book in one hand and tucked it under his arm, extending the other one out in greeting.

"Hello associate, I am Teekeeus, head of the guild here in Chorrol, how can I help you?" He smiled, rows of little sharp white teeth flashing at her.

"A pleasure to meet you sir. I'm Darrowmesh. I'm looking for a recommendation." She smiled in return and released her grip on the man's rough hand. Teekeeus cocked his head to the side in thought a moment.

"A recommendation…" He tapped his chin while he thought. "I'm afraid I haven't got anything off hand for you. I've been a bit preoccupied with this business concerning Earana, you see. Give me a few days, I'll come up with something for you to do." Teekeeus turned to leave, opening his book once more. Mesh tugged at his sleeve, urgently, to hold him back.

"Wait! Isn't there anything I can do to help you with this?" She really didn't want to wait around for who knows how long just to get started on a recommendation. Teekeeus considered her a moment and then closed his book.

"Hmm… maybe there is something you can do." Teekeeus tugged his sleeve away and smoothed down his robe.

"You're new to Chorrol aren't you? You should be able to get fairly close to Earana without causing suspicion. I want you to watch her. Find out what she's been up to." While he was talking he put a hand on her shoulder and led her into a small study off from the alchemy lab. He jerked his thumb towards the door signaling to the Altmer man to go find something to do elsewhere.

"She's up here from the Arcane University, "he continued, "I know she's doing research of some sort but she refuses to check in with the guild here. People have been going missing, beggars mostly, nobody anyone pays attention to. I fear she may be misusing her rank within the guild." He leaned back, resting against the desk and folded his arms across his chest. He waited for what he had just said to sink in.

"What do you mean when you say that people have been going missing? Isn't that a job for the guards?" Mesh ran a hand nervously through her hair.

"It would be if they were being dragged off in the middle of the night. But they've been seen leaving town with her. When anyone asks they claim to have work with her. Nobody is going to argue when a beggar wants to work. But we never see them again. I'm concerned. Think you can help?" Teekeeus cocked one eye ridge up and looked down his orange and green snout at her. All she could do was sigh.

"I'll do what I can." She shrugged. Teekeeus gave her a nod and walked away, once again taking up the violet book.

Mesh noticed a curious looking set of aged brown eyes peering at her from the alchemy lab. She raised an eyebrow at the man, inviting him in. He gave a quick look over his shoulder and walked into the room.

"Hi there, I'm Angalmo; alchemist here in Chorrol. I over heard the conversation. Looking into the business concerning Earana, eh?" He leaned against the doorframe; arms folded, and gave her a warm smile. The candlelight from the desk made the wrinkles around his eyes seem deeper, and caused his mostly bald head to glow. What hair he had left was grey with age and tied back in a short tail. Mesh nodded in reply and sighed.

"I don't suppose you know anything about Earana?" She looked hopefully into the wise brown eyes. Angalmo just shook his head slowly.

"I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help to you. She seems to be avoiding the guild as if we've all got the plague. She won't talk to any mage, or anyone associated with the guild for that matter, mage or not. All we know is that she's been staying at The Grey Mare. The only piece of advice I can offer you is to leave that robe behind. Check upstairs in the living quarters, you'll find something less conspicuous." Angalmo smiled and excused himself and Mesh went in search of something more town's folk-ish.

A short time later Mesh was once again standing in the streets of Chorrol. The sun was low, painting an orange and violet sun set across the sky. Mesh smoothed her russet felt dress down with her hands and looked around. She began walking towards the center of town. She felt, oddly, more conspicuous without her robe, out of place and lost.

It didn't take long to find The Grey Mare. It was right next to the south gate. Mesh stood outside the front door looking up at the run down building. This is where a mage from the Arcane University was staying? She looked over her shoulder towards the Oak and Crosier and, then back at the Grey Mare. With a shrug she swung the door open and walked in.

The inside looked just as worn down as the outside. The wooden posts and beams were grey and splintering with age. Despite it's evident age it was warm and cozy. There were a few patrons sitting at the handful of tables in the dining area, all enjoying a mug of ale. In front of her was a pleasant looking Imperial woman.

"Excuse me," She said to the Imperial woman behind the counter, "I'm looking for a woman named Earana, I hear she's staying here." The woman smiled and nodded over to a dimly lit table in the back. Mesh's eyes followed the direction of the nod and found herself being watched by an aged Altmer woman. Mesh thanked the innkeeper and weaved her way between the tables to get to the back.

"Uh… hello. I hear you're looking for… for…" Mesh trailed off. Looking for what? Mesh didn't have the slightest idea what the woman was looking for. Earana sneered at her, one eyebrow raised mockingly. She had a glass of wine between her thumb and middle fingers, cradled as if it were made of delicate crystal, half way to her lips. There was a journal and several sheets of loose parchment scattered about the table's surface.

"Help?" Earana offered smugly, her green eyes studying Mesh intently.

"Yes… help. I hear you've been looking for help. I'd like a… a job. Please." Mesh clutched a fistful of her dress in each hand and shuffled her feet.

"What's wrong with you?" The question hit Mesh unexpectedly. She wasn't quite sure what to say. "You've got the eyes of a Dunmer, but you're a sickly white. What's wrong with you?" She was studying Mesh as if she were an alchemy experiment gone wrong.

"Nothing's wrong with me! I've just always been white." Mesh, for a moment, forgot her fear of the horrible woman and took a more defensive tone. She stood up straight, squaring her shoulders and stared defiantly at Earana.

"All right, all right. I was just asking." She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "And you're a bit late. Come back tomorrow evening and I'll have something for you to do." She took a sip of her wine and picked up her quill. The conversation was over as far as she was concerned. Mesh pressed on, however.

"What kind of work will I be doing?" She asked cheerfully. Earana looked up from below two furrowed brows and sneered again.

"Do you want the job or not? Come back tomorrow evening, until then I don't want to see you again!" She went back to her papers. Mesh took the hint and left, not wanting to lose the opportunity to follow her target around.

She returned to the mage's guild and gave Teekeeus an update. She then headed up the stairs to the living quarters. She met Angalmo sitting in the library and stopped to thank him for the advice.

"I'm glad I could be of help. You've got a weapon of some sort, right?" He asked, concern written in the deep lines around his eyes. "I don't like to think another member of the guild could be dangerous, but it's best to be prepared for these things." Mesh flashed him a grin and pulled out her silver dagger.

"Don't worry. I'll be able to handle it." She smiled and waved good night to him. After the necromancers how much trouble could one cranky old Altmer woman be?


	13. Chapter 13

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 13****  
**

**Middas, Last Seed. 3E 432. ****  
****Black Road, Cyrodiil.**

The morning sun could be seen poking up from behind the walls of the Imperial city. The rays of light danced along the surface of Lake Rumore, pink and green sparkles flickering gently back and forth. But the sunrise was the furthest thing from the minds of the travelers moving up the Black Road.

Mirisa was limp in Modryns arms. She was looking dangerously pale for a Redguard. Despite the blanket she was wrapped in and the warm sun, she was cold to the touch. Her breathing was slow and shallow. Modryn kept talking to her, hoping she would make it the rest of the way to Chorrol. Do'Vassa was limping silently along beside Modryn carrying Mirisa's gear. They had met a couple legion soldiers along the way who had offered to help as best they could.

They had stopped in Leyawiin for healing after escaping Arpenia. They hadn't stayed long enough, at least not long enough for the healing to set. Mirisa had insisted that she was well enough to continue on. Everyone had just wanted to get back home. She collapsed just passed Weye. That's when they had met the two soldiers.

Modryn sighed and shifted the woman's weight, careful not to pinch her arm to tightly against his cuirass.

"Hang in there, Mirisa. I can see Weynon Priory from here." Modryn looked over his shoulder to check on the others. Ulfgar Black-Nail and one of the soldiers each had an arm around Mug gro-Sharob. His short black hair was normally tied in a neat tail on top of his head, but was now loose and matted with crusty dried blood. The two men struggled under the weight of the massive Orc. The other soldier supported Denegor, a small blue-eyed Bosmer with a broken leg.

Just a little further and they'd be home.**  
**

**Middas, Last Seed. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Darrowmesh woke early and got back into her felt dress. She decided, around a mouthful of breakfast, that she couldn't be seen around the mage's guild for fear of exposing her connection with the guild. So she started for the chapel right away. She quietly closed the guildhall door behind her, stuffing the last of a left over dinner roll into her mouth, and set off around the back of the guild for the chapel.

The large door gave a low grown as she pulled it open. She stepped into the Chapel of Stendarr and noticed it was very quiet; she had arrived before the usual crowd. The chapel was empty save for a man standing at the back.

Mesh always loved the chapels at sunrise. The early morning light streamed in through the tall stained glass windows casting long banners of coloured light across the stone floor. She took her time as she walked up the isle towards the man; appreciating the soft glow of coloured light and the small echoing of her footsteps.

As she got nearer she noticed that it was an older Dunmer man she was moving towards. At the sound of her approaching steps he turned. He was wearing a lavish blue silk outfit with gold trim. A wild mane of copper hair brushed his shoulders. His face was weathered and creased but he had a friendly and welcoming smile. Mesh returned the smile and held her healer's ticket out for the man.

"Ah! You must be Darrowmesh then, I'm Gureryne Selvilo." He grinned and laughed at her surprised look. "Cirroc, from the Chapel of Talos in Bruma, sent word that you were on your way. He regrets that you didn't get to stay longer. I've heard good things about your progress." He smiled warmly and handed the ticket back to her.

"Thank you. So you have work for me then?" Mesh was almost glowing with pride. She'd have to write back to her foster parents about this. Her name was already getting around, even if it was just among the other healers.

"Oh there's always work for healers." Gureryne waved his hand absently. "Here, I'll show you around." Mesh followed Gureryne down to the chapel undercroft. It was stacked high with crates and there were barrels hugging the walls and collecting dust. It was exactly the same as every other chapel undercroft she's seen thus far.

"Over here is where we keep the bandages and splints…" Gureryne waved a hand towards a stack of crates shoved in a corner. "And over here some cotton gauze. It's sealed in wax, so be sure to always carry a knife with you..." The tour continued this way until they made their way back to the front alter in the main chamber of the chapel where they had started.

"Alright then, we'll have you start-" Gureryne was cut off suddenly as the chapel doors were swung open violently. Both Mesh and Gureryne spun around to see what the fuss was about. An odd group consisting of two legion soldiers, a handful of city guards and six injured men had burst through the door. They all seemed to be talking and shouting at once.

Mesh rushed forwards after Gureryne to meet the injured group. A Dunmer man with a large mohawk was carrying an unconscious Redguard woman. He was covered in dust and dried blood. His eyes looked blood shot, even for a Dunmer. Mesh had him set her down gently while she held the woman's head and neck stable. Gureryne took charge of the woman's healing and Mesh turned to tend to the less life threatening injuries.

Modryn took a deep breath. It was a huge relief to see those blue tendrils of light wrap around Mirisa's limp form. Gureryne assured him that she would be just fine. He managed to convince the other healer, the white woman, that he was fine and the blood covering his clothing and armor wasn't his.

He then helped Ulfgar Black-Nail and the legion soldier; his name was Lucan or something, with Mug gro-Sharob. The Orc looked a bit pale. The deep gash along his left side had opened up slightly during the walk from Leyawiin and his ribs were bruised. The white woman appeared at Modryn's side. She gave him a nod and elbowed him out of the way, wordlessly throwing stream after stream of blue light about the man.

"Ulfgar," Modryn grasped the exhausted looking Nord by the arm, "Go fetch the guild master." Modryn felt sick watching him go. Fifteen of his finest men gone, the guild master's eldest son among them. He had trained most of those men, shaped them into warriors.

He sat down heavily on the step that bordered the chapel's altar. He hunched his back over, elbows on his knees and propped his head up on his fists. He watched the strange white woman wrap his men with blue ribbons of magic. As the blue lights faded towards the floor her hands moved quickly, tying bandages and setting bones. A fresh spiral of blue tendrils fell, setting her work and sealing the wounds closed. The process was hypnotic.

Mesh noticed the depressed Dunmer man sitting under the altar. He was watching her with a blank look on his face. She gave Gureryne a nudge.

"Who's the man over there with the mohawk?" She didn't look up from her work, and neither did Gureryne.

"Modryn Oreyn, quiet man, keeps to himself mostly. He's champion of the fighter's guild, he's in here quite a bit, usually with the odd injured careless new recruit. Sounds like he lost quite a few of his men on some botched mission. I didn't get the details." He finished up with Mirisa and looked over his shoulder at Modryn. "Finish up with the Orc and see if you can be of any help to Oreyn." Gureryne moved on to help the little Bosmer man sitting not far off with a broken leg.

"Excuse me, Oreyn, isn't it?" Modryn was snapped from his thoughts by a concerned voice and a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find the white woman kneeling down next to him.

"I'm fine, really." He mumbled. The woman smiled at him.

"All the same, I'd like to take a look at you, you don't look so good." She knelt down in front of him and poked and prodded at bruises and scrapes. In the end she threw a few tendrils of blue magic around him. No amount of healing could make the sick feeling in his stomach pass. He mumbled a thanks and put his chin back to his fists.

Mesh smiled at the man, but then smile didn't last. She had expected him to get up after the healing and… and well show _some_ sign of improvement. Instead he went back to his brooding and that vacant look returned to his face. She cleared her throat.

Modryn snapped his eyes up again to meet the woman's. Why was she still here? Healing completed, he was fine now. End of story, continue on with the others. He gave her a slight scowl and arched an eyebrow. He felt a slight twinge of guilt as the woman looked startled and took a step back; it was, however, a very slight twinge.

"I'm fine now. Thank you." Modryn stared at her. He wasn't even completely sure what she was. She had the eyes of a Dunmer like himself, but she was milky white.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" She was ignoring his scowl and chose to put on a bright smile; that just made Modryn scowl even more.

"Look, lady…"

"Darrowmesh, my name's Darrowmesh."

"Yes, yes, whatever… Look, Darrowmesh, I'm grateful for the healing and all that, but unless you're any good with a blade you're really of no further use." His head sunk back down and he hoped the woman would leave.

"Hey! I am pretty good with a blade you know…" Mesh settled down on the steps beside the cranky man and ignored the look of rage he was giving her. "I've taken down necromancers before you know. And there was this one time when I had to sneak through this cave after this guy…" She gave him a wide smile. He turned towards her and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is that so? I suppose it was a whole army of them then, was it? And let me guess… you weld a giant ebony claymore?" He had a mixed expression of quiet amusement and annoyance. At least he was reacting, which is all Mesh really wanted to see. His eyes looked normal, tired, but normal; he wasn't showing any sign of concussion.

"Ah, well no… actually there were only three of them. And I only killed them one at a time. And I used a dagger… actually I lost the dagger in one of their shoulders and then I had to throw rocks… but then he cast a spell at me and I reflected it back at him." All right… that story seemed more impressive in her head. She paused a moment with a thoughtful look aimed towards her boots.

She looked up at the sound of a quiet chuckle. The cranky man was giving her a slight crooked smile. She blinked at him.

"Sounds to me like you're just as lucky to be alive as I am." He laid a hand on her shoulder and stood up. "You keep working as a healer, you're good at it. You'll probably live longer as well." He gave her a sad smile and walked down the isle towards the big double doors. He met an Imperial woman at the door and they left together.

Mesh just noticed as the two slipped out the door; that the light was growing dim outside. There was something significant about that. She had spent all day tending to the wounded fighter's guild members. She was tired and wanted something to eat. But what was it she was supposed to remember?

It hit her all of a sudden, Earana! She shouted a quick good-bye to a startled Gureryne and flew out the door. Dammit, she was going to be late!


	14. Chapter 14

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 14****  
**

**Middas, Last Seed. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Heads turned as Mesh ran down the street and around Chorrol's Fallen Hero statue towards The Grey Mare. Her feet slammed against the cobble stone streets and she skidded around a couple patrolling guards. She paused in front of the inn's door just long enough to compose herself.

When Mesh entered the inn she could swear she had never left the night before. It looked the same. The fire was burning low and the modest room was dimly lit. The same patrons were there, at the same tables and all hugging mugs of ale. And there at the back was Earana. She had the same scowl on her face as the last time Mesh had seen her. She was drumming her fingers impatiently on the table, staring her down with those cold green eyes. Mesh stood before Earana and shrugged sheepishly.

"Uh… sorry. I was…" Was what? Mesh thought. Working at the chapel? Forgot about the mysterious job? Any excuse she used would be suspicious, so she just shrugged again.

"Oh never mind," Earana spat out, "lets just get moving, we have a small walk ahead of ourselves and I'd rather do it in what little day light you've left us with then listen to your feeble excuses." She stood up and strode quickly towards the door, not even glancing back at Mesh to see if she was following.

They left the city together, just as Teekeeus said had happened with the beggars. They walked down the Black Road silently. Mesh looked at Weynon Priory as they passed, the monks there were lighting the lanterns. The windows glowed from the candle light from within.

Earana stopped them within the outer walls of Fort Ash. She pulled a ring of keys from her belt and unlocked the front door. They stepped into a dimly lit corridor of crumbling stone. The air smelled of oil from the torches that lined the walls. They walked down a couple short flights of stairs and took a left. Then a right and the floor began to slope downwards.

They came to a door and once again Earana pulled the ring of keys out and unlocked a door; she gestured for Darrowmesh to enter the room. It was a large chamber with what looked like a camp set up in the middle. There was a fire against one of the walls and a few bedrolls against another. Bottles of ale and cheap wine were set on top of a few broken up crates. Mesh looked up and noticed that a bridge spanned the length of the room far above her head. She looked back at Earana.

"I do hope you enjoy your new home." She smiled warmly. The smile sent chills up Mesh's spine. "You will be paid every three days as soon as you start work. Of course, thanks to your tardiness, that won't be until tomorrow. Good night." She ended with the usual scowl and slammed the door shut. Mesh heard a familiar 'click' as the door was locked from the other side.

Panic rose in her chest. She tried the door even though she knew it to be locked. It didn't budge. She noticed another door and pulled on it as well. It too, was locked. She tried slamming her fists against its cold surface as if physical abuse would somehow convince the door to swing open of its own accord.

"You're wasting your time." A soft husky voice came from somewhere in the depths of the chamber's shadows. Mesh pressed her back to the door and scanned the room for the source of the voice. She saw nothing. Wait… what was that. One of the shadows in the corner opposite her moved. A man sat up from one of the bedrolls. He was still wrapped in shadows, but Mesh could tell he had long dark hair pulled back in a loose tail. He was tall and thin, almost skeletal.

"Who are you?" She asked him, still hugging the door with her back. Her hand went to her dagger. The man must have noticed; a raspy laugh came from somewhere deep in his throat.

"Relax. I'm here for work, same as you. My name is Scelian Horatius. And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" He stood up and gave her a little bow, remaining in the shadows and not moving any closer.

"Darrowmesh. A pleasure." Mesh strained her eyes trying to peer through the shadows to get a better look at her companion, but it was no use. "And just what work is it that we're going to be doing? And where are the others? I heard there were a few people working for her." Scelian was silent a moment, his head cocked to one side.

"How is it you don't know? We're experiments. She's testing some new spell or something. The others were… cut loose. I don't know what happened to them." He shrugged. Mesh took in a sharp breath of air and gasped. Scelian must have heard it because he continued hastily.

"I don't think they're dead, if that's what you're worried about. It's just that some of what she does causes some… injuries… and we aren't useful after that. She lets us go at that point." Mesh had heard enough. This was more then enough information for Teekeeus.

"Look, Scelian, we have to get out of here. She can't do this! This goes against every rule the mage's guild has! If you-" She was cut off suddenly. Scelian rushed towards her urgently. She pressed her back harder against the door.

"Mage's guild? What do you know of the mage's guild? Are you a mage?" He grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her forwards. He was now standing in the light and she had a good look at him. He was very pale; his skin old and weathered; sunken in as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. It was his eyes that struck Mesh the most. They were red; blood red.

"A vampire! You're a vampire!" Mesh screamed in terror. "Get away from me!" She struggled hard against his grip.

"Oh, will you calm down!" He let her go and jumped back avoiding her swinging fists. "I'm not going to bite you. Just answer the question; are you a mage?" He looked desperate for an answer. Mesh rubbed her shoulders where she could still feel his icy grip. She nodded in reply.

"You have to help me then! There must be a cure for this retched disease! I don't want to be a vampire; I have a family, a daughter. Please!" His hands were clasped in front of him. The man was indeed desperate. Mesh eyed him suspiciously.

"Well… I guess I could see what can be done… I'm not a very experienced mage or anything… just an associate, really. But. If you promise to help me, I'll promise to help you. How's that sound?" Scelian smiled and sighed with relief. He fell back against the large central pillar grinning.

"Thank you. Just what is it I can help you with mage?" He smiled and rested his fists on his hips. It looked comical to see a vampire standing in a way her foster father always used to stand. Mesh smiled back at the man.

…

Modryn ran his hand down over his mohawk as he slowly descended the stairs down to the guildhall's common room. He was exhausted, not just from the long trip back from Leyawiin, but from the lengthy lecture the guild master had given him. He didn't argue. He had nothing to say. What can you say to a woman who's just lost a son? Nothing. You just stand there and take whatever she throws at you.

He rubbed his eyes, they were watering for some reason, probably just from all the dust on the roads he told himself. He sat down heavily at the table and pulled an ale over. He didn't really feel like drinking it though. He pulled his guild books and papers over and didn't feel like working with those either. He sighed, passing the ale from one hand to the other.

The guildhall door opened and Viranus walked in. Modryn almost dropped the ale. Viranus's eyes were looking red but he smiled. He was in full armor. He walked over to the table and nodded at Modryn.

"What have you got for me sir?" He asked. Modryn's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't argue. He shuffled through his papers and pulled out a contract that would suit the boy's skills.

"Here, this one-" He was cut off by a loud bellow from the stairs, even Viranus started with surprise.

"NO! Absolutely not!" Vilena snatched the contract out of Modryn's hand and slammed it back on the table. She looked daggers at him. She turned to her son and offered him a more soothing tone. "Viranus, why don't you take some time off? You don't have to stay here, take some time to get your mind off all this fighter's guild business."

"But mother, I want to work. It's what Vitellus would have wanted. He wouldn't want to see us sulking. Working a contract is the best way for me to honor my brother's memory." The young man stood up straight. His eyes misted up a little but he stood proudly and held his hand out to Modryn for the contract. Modryn looked from one to the other, not sure what to do. Vilena glared at Modryn.

"Fine. Have it your way, if you're looking for something to do, the equipment from Modryn's group needs to be cleaned up. Will you do that for me please Viranus?" She never took her eyes off Modryn but she noticed that Viranus hadn't moved yet. "Viranus? Please?" Viranus finally gave his mother a nod and left for the basement to help Sabine repair and clean the broken gear.

"Under no circumstances are you to send my son out on a contract. Do you hear me Modryn Oreyn?" Modryn began to protest but was silenced. Vilena spoke through clenched teeth. "Do. You. Understand. Me. Modryn Oreyn?" Her nose was just inches from his and he was sure that another minute under such a glare would reduce him to ash.

"Yes… Guild master. I understand." He breathed a sigh of relief when she had finally left the guildhall, slamming the door behind her. All right… _now_ he needed that ale. Modryn looked down at the partially crumpled contract. He had nobody to fill it now that Viranus was out of the picture. He was suddenly short fifteen of his best men.

Where am I going to get more members, even low-level members…? Anyone for that matter, he could train new members. He buried his face in his palms, letting the contract flutter down to the tabletop. He stared at the white piece of paper. And then he remembered… that white mage had offered to help. He sat back leaning his chair out on two legs and thought. She did offer. Though, he'd likely just be getting her killed. She looked too young. But then again a mage would be useful. And one proficient in restoration magic at that… Hmm…


	15. Chapter 15

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 15****  
**

**Middas, Last Seed. 3E 432. ****  
****Fort Ash, Cyrodiil.**

Darrowmesh spun around in a slow circle. Her eyes scanned the room for any possible exit. The two doors were locked from the outside and the bridge was well out of reach.

"Well… Before anyone does any helping of anyone, we need to find a way out of here Scelian. I don't suppose you know how to pick locks?" She inspected the locks on the doors skeptically. They looked to be of sounds design. Scelian shook his head no.

With a sigh she decided to abandon the locks and looked back at the bridge. Really, it wasn't all that far out of reach… If she could find something sturdy to stand on… Ah ha!

"Here! Help me with this!" Mesh had trotted over to the chest in the corner and was futilely tugging at it, trying to pull it to the center of the room. Scelian lifted it with ease and looked at her, waiting for some instruction as to what to do with it. She blinked up at him.

"Porphyric Hemophilia has its benefits I suppose. Strength being one of them." He grinned and shrugged. "Now… about this chest…?"

"Oh… um… If you could maybe position it just to the side of the bridge." She scuffled over to where she wanted the chest and eyed the bridge again. Scelian seemed to pick up on the plan. He dropped the chest and rubbed his hands off on his pants.

With one hand on the wall for support Scelian hopped up onto the top of the chest. He bent down and cupped his hands. Mesh put one foot into his hands and jumped as Scelian launched her up towards the bridge.

She managed to catch the edge of the bridge and pull herself up. She peeked over the edge down at Scelian. It seemed like a further drop from up here.

"You'll need to be careful." Scelian called up to her, "I don't know where Earana is, but I know she has summoned monsters guarding the place." Mesh gave the man a quick nod and stood up. She wasn't sure what she was going to do. It wouldn't matter if she could make it down to the door, she still didn't have the key.

She was just heading out the main hall into the corridor when something caught her eye. Rope; there was a large rope sitting next to one of the support pillars. Who needs a key when you have a rope! She scooped up an armful and half dragged it over to the edge of the bridge.

She tied one end around a large pillar and knotted it three times just to be good and sure it was secure. She kicked the rest of it over the edge and peered down. Scelian gave it a good pull to test the knots and then began climbing up.

"So. Mage. Mind telling me what all the fuss is about?" Scelian brushed the dust off his pants and cocked his head to the side.

"I'm just here to find out what Earana is up too. And I found out, didn't I?" She smiled smugly and turned, heading out towards the corridor. "And if you'll testify against Earana I'll help you with your vampire problem." She called over her shoulder. Scelian smiled and followed.

They came to a heavy wooden door and paused. Scelian pushed on it gently, peeking through the crack into the dim light. There was a slight creaking noise coming from the other side of the door. Mesh looked up at Scelian and cocked an eyebrow in question.

"Skeletons." He whispered. He shook his head when he noticed Mesh's hand begin to glow. "Unless you have something powerful in mind the best way to deal with these buggers is just to knock their skulls loose from the rest of 'em." He picked up an old beam and shook it menacingly.

Mesh gave her little dagger an insulting glare and kicked through the dirt until she found a piece of broken timber. She gave it a test swing through the air. It would have to do.

The two of them slowly made their way to where the two skeletons were standing. Scelian advanced on one, Mesh the other. She kept her eyes locked on the base of the skeleton's head. One well-placed swing should do the trick. She looked over at Scelian. He was mouthing off a silent countdown. "Three…. Two… One…" And they both swung together. Two large cracks echoed through the room. Bones were sent flying across the chamber; hitting the far wall with a clatter.

A moment later the room was silent again. Mesh held her breath listening for any signs of more skeletons. It seemed to her that all of Cyrodiil must have heard that commotion. Scelian tapped her arm and motioned her forward.

They took the next right and knocked the heads off two more skeletons and burst out Fort Ash's door. They leaned there panting for some time. Mesh tossed her make shift club into the weeds. Scelian followed suit.

The night air was cool as they walked back up towards Chorrol with only a chorus of crickets to break the silence. It was fairly late in the evening already.

"So… If you don't mind my asking… What happened?" Mesh gave her new companion a quick glance as they made their way slowly up the dark road.

"You mean the vampire thing?" He sighed heavily, "I was on my way back home one night from the Imperial City and a bunch of bandits jumped me. It wasn't enough that they took my goods, but one of them had to bite me too. I didn't even think about it, you know… It was my wife that noticed it. About a week later the changes started to set in. She chased me out." He sighed deeply again and scuffled his feet in the dirt.

They passed two sleepy looking guards standing watch over the Chorrol city gates. Scelian lowered his voice but continued telling his story.

"I swore to her I'd never hurt her or little Abby. I would never! By the Nine Divines, they're the world to me. But she was afraid of what I was turning into." A small sob made its way from his lips as he continued. "You should have seen little Abby. She was hiding 'round under the table… peeking out from under the tablecloth. Her big brown eyes peering up at me. She was scared. Of me! Her dad."

Mesh put an understanding hand on his back. He shook himself free of the memories and squared his shoulders.

"I've not left them, you understand. I can't. That's why I signed up for the work with that mage woman, Earana. I was sending every septim back to Moria and Abby. I want to prove I'm no monster." He fell silent as they reached the mage's guild door. Mesh pushed it open and waved Scelian in.

The guildhall entrance was quiet. She heard someone shuffling around in the room to the left, so she poked her head around the corner. Teekeeus was standing with his back to her re-shelving an arm full of books. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Sir?" She took a step into the room. Teekeeus turned and looked at her with one bright red eye.

"Associate? Have you learned anything about Earana?" He put the stack of books down on the alchemy table and gave her his full attention.

"Yes sir. That's what I came back to speak to you about. I actually brought someone back with me that can tell you more then I can." She leaned back out into the entrance area and grabbed a hold of Scelian's arm. He had been studying the contents of one of the display cases. He uttered a small squeek as she dragged him into the small room to stand before Teekeeus.

Teekeeus drew in a sharp breath as he noticed the red eyes, pale skin and sunken cheeks. There was no hiding Porphyric Hemophilia from a mage. Regardless of the initial surprise Teekeeus sat Scelian down and dismissed Darrowmesh so that he could hold the interview in piece.

Mesh bowed out of the room. She stood in the entrance hall and stared at the ornate carving on the floor for a moment. The soft murmur of Scelian's voice in contrast to the raspy voice of Teekeeus' could be heard from the next room. Mesh shrugged her shoulders and left the guildhall.

She sat on the front steps and watched a lonely looking guard walk past carrying a lantern. She sat, lost in her own thoughts, listening to the crunch of gravel under the man's feet. It died away as he moved further down the street and she was left in silence once again.

She sighed lightly and leaned forward resting her elbows on her knees and cradling her chin in her hands. Somewhere a door was shut softly and she heard a soft click as a key was turned in the lock. A set of feet crunched by… and then stopped. She glanced up not taking her chin from her hands.

In the dim light she could make out the form of a man with a mohawk. A Dunmer, she suspected, though it was a bit dark and the glare of the guild's torches was in her eyes, she couldn't be sure. His rough iron cuirass glinted in the torchlight. Oh… I know that man… I think. Where have I seen him before? She grimaced slightly, searching her mind for a name to put to the man.

The man took a few steps towards her and stepped into the torchlight. It was a Dunmer man. Mesh afforded a second to congratulate herself inwardly and then studied the familiar man's face. He was older then herself. His mohawk was dark in colour but was defiantly on the way to grey. His face was weathered and creased by years of frowning. He looked like a rather menacing sort of man.

"… Darrowmesh… isn't it?" He ventured tilting his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. Ah! The chapel! That's where Mesh had seen him before. He was with the fighter's guild. Oh… Oh, what was his name? Mod something. Modin? Modrin? Something like that anyway.

"Modrin, right? Fighter's guild." She stood up and smiled. The look he gave her in return withered the smile from her face.

"Oreyn, Modryn Oreyn. Yes, fighters guild." He snapped. Modryn gave the girl a disgusted look. Ugh. This girl was a mage? He already had enough idiots. Still… she did a good job back at the chapel. She worked well under pressure. And really she didn't have any reason to remember his name. He sighed.

I better not come to regret this…

"You expressed interest in joining up earlier today. Still up for it?" His look of disgust never wavered. In truth, he'd forgotten that he was glaring at the girl; it just sort of came natural when dealing with new recruits.

"Yes…?" Mesh wasn't sure if she wanted anything to do with such an ornery man, but he raised an eyebrow at the answer posed in the form of a question and she started. "Yes? Yes! I would like to join the fighter's guild. What can I do for you sir?" She snapped her body to attention, standing rigid and upright. The man just rolled his eyes.

"Just come find me tomorrow morning, will you?" He snarled. She offered a crisp salute. "And knock it off!" He barked in response. He turned and stalked off. Mesh stifled a giggle and leaned out over the porch to watch him stomping off towards the other end of town. She couldn't help but wonder if he was always so cranky.


	16. Chapter 16

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 16****  
**

**Turdas, Last Seed. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Sun streamed through the small window of Mesh's room in the mage's guild. The covers were hanging precariously to the edge of the bed, having been kicked off the sleeping mage in the night some time. It was early morning, but already the air was getting warm. It was going to be a hot summer day.

Mesh woke with a start to the sound of knocking on her door. She threw a pillow at the offending door and rolled over. Again the knocking came, but more forceful this time.

"Go-way!" She muttered, throwing an arm over her head.

"Associate! Get out of bed! There is much work to be done if you are to have my recommendation!" Teekeeus' impatient raspy voice traveled through the closed door. By the Nine, does that man never sleep? She sighed and gave the ceiling a grumpy yawn and rolled out of bed.

She descended the stairs to the dining area while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She blinked a couple times and spotted Teekeeus and Scelian seated at the table enjoying a hot bowl of steaming porridge and fresh berries. She sat down and helped herself to some while nodding a good morning to Scelian and leveling Teekeeus with a glare.

"I thought I finished the recommendation" She said around a mouthful of porridge, "I brought him back, didn't I?" She waved the butt of her spoon towards Scelian.

"While this is true that you have gathered the information we need to have Earana removed from the university, it still remains to have that information delivered to the proper hands." Teekeeus eyed her less then lady-like table manners and meticulously placed a napkin in his lap, as if hoping to lead by example. "I need you to take the report to the university. You will find an Imperial by the name of Raminus Polus there who will take care of the details."

"And Scelian?" She gave her new friend a quick smile.

"We will give him a place to stay here until this business is cleared up." Teekeeus then passed a large envelope across the table to her and began gingerly eating his porridge, as if the emperor himself was there dinning with them. Mesh rolled her eyes. Humph! Mages.

…

Modryn tucked the guildhall key back in his pocket and went about opening the other doors. He checked the desk upstairs for any new reports. Since Vilena was, understandably, taking a few weeks away from the guild it would be up to him to manage the financial end of things as well as the contracts.

He was just about to start tearing out clumps from his mohawk in frustration when he heard the front door open and close softly. It was still a bit early for the regular members to be showing up… the lazy fetchers. He gave the two slips of parchment one more death glare each and dropped them to the desktop. He leaned forward over the railing to get a look at the area in front of the door.

It was Darrowmesh; that white mage. Hmm… he hadn't been expecting her to show up quite so early. He shrugged and made his way down the stairs. She smiled at him and gave him a cheery good morning. He gave her a quick, but far less cheery, good morning in reply and walked right past her to the table. He took his books from the fireplace mantle and sat down. He waved her into a seat opposite himself.

"If I remember correctly you're not all that experienced-" He cut the girl off by holding up a hand when he noticed she was about to argue the point. "Yes, yes, I remember, the army of necromancers. Very impressive, I'm sure." He rolled his eyes. "None the less, I'm sending you to Anvil. Talk to Azzan. He'll give you some training and send you on some basic missions before getting you started on the tougher jobs."

Modryn looked up at the girl. She was sitting across from him. Her red eyes sparkled and she held that slight unwavering smile. She blinked and nodded, the smile widened slightly when she noticed his gaze. Well, that's a good sign. She doesn't mind starting at the bottom. But then he got the feeling she wasn't even aware that there _was_ a bottom to start from.

Mesh couldn't help it. She grinned as the cranky man opposite her returned her smile. Alright, granted, it wasn't a very _big_ smile, but still… she'd take what she could get. She got the feeling that he was waiting for her to protest in some way to being sent to Anvil. She wasn't at all sure why. Wasn't the Gold Coast supposed to be nice?

Shortly after, the interview was concluded and she had signed her name to the members list. Modryn shooed her from the guildhall, but at least he shooed her with that slight smile still pulling at the corners of his lips. She sidestepped around an enormous Orc with an equally enormous grin. He gave her a nod and stepped through the door she had just been shooed from. She gave the closed door a wide grin.

She headed for the city gates leading to the Black Road. First stop, the Imperial City. She could hardly contain her excitement. The Arcane University. Teekeeus suggested asking Raminus Polus about Porphyric Hemophilia. He was a master wizard after all. So. She would drop off the report, ask about vampirism and then head out to Anvil for blade training and whatever other odd jobs needed to be done. Her plan was flawless.

It only took an hour to get to Weye, the small settlement just outside the Imperial City gates. She could see the Arcane University from the bridge. The Archmage's tower was hard to miss. She wondered what it must be like up there.

She walked through the Talos Plaza district and admired the neat rows of houses, apartments and gardens. She watched in awe as the Imperial soldiers marched by, their armor far more impressive then the lighter armor of the smaller city guards.

Next she passed into the Temple District. There were more houses and apartments here and the gardens were just as beautiful. She took the time to walk all the way around the Temple of the One, admiring the white stonewalls.

The city Arboretum was even more beautiful. The entire section was one big garden. The smell of lilies and morning glories filled the air. She took her time wandering the stone paths until eventually she came to the bridge that led to the Arcane University.

She walked passed a couple of battlemages standing on duty in front of the purple flames that were the university's signature. They gave her a nod as she headed up the stairs. She smiled at the familiar mage guild emblem mosaic at the foot of the front doors as she tugged them open.

The interior of the tower's lobby was dim; she blinked until her eyes adjusted to the new light. Her jaw dropped at the beauty of the large room. There were tapestries on the walls depicting the birth signs. There were a couple display cases against the walls and of course a large counter.

Behind the counter was an Imperial man in a blue robe. He smiled at her and then went back to reading a book, evidently letting her soak in the contents of the room before pressing her with business. Inwardly she appreciated the freedom to look around. The floor was lined with a few benches, these she stepped around and went to one of the display cases. In it were the three largest soul gems she'd ever seen.

She must have gasped in surprise at their size, because a moment later and the Imperial was at her side. He leaned over her shoulder to see what she was looking at.

"Ah! Impressive aren't they? Some of the finest ever found in Cyrodiil… Do you do much soul trapping?" He smiled at her, his green eyes sparkling.

"Oh no! I've never soul trapped anything before." She shook her head and stepped back from the case keeping her hands clasped behind her back, making sure the man knew she had no intention of trying to open he case. He laughed lightly and held out a hand.

"I'm Raminus Polus, master wizard. Can I help you with something?" He smiled warmly at her and she accepted the out stretched hand and shook it.

"I'm Darrowmesh. I'm just an associate for now. I was sent by Teekeeus…" At this she dug around in her bag for the envelope, "To give you this." She held the slightly wrinkled mass of parchment out to him. He took it and bowed dramatically.

"I'll see to it that this is delivered to the archmage as soon as possible. Thank you." He turned to leave but she stopped him quickly with a small squeak.

"Um… if you don't mind, sir, a question or two?" She looked hopefully up at him. He set the envelope down on the counter and clasped his hands in front of himself and smiled.

"Of course, associate. How can I help you?" He waved her down to a bench and sat across from her.

"Well… I was wondering what you could tell me about Porphyric Hemophilia. Or, more specifically, the cure there of." Raminus seemed surprised at the mention of the disease. He scrunched his nose up in thought and ran a hand through his messy greying hair.

"I'm afraid there is very little I can tell you about the cure to vampirism…" He paused in thought again scratching at his eyebrow absently, "If you want to know more about it your best bet is to ask Count Janus Hassildor of Skingrad. He has… well let's just say he has reason to be interested in such topics." He shrugged sheepishly. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help to you. Is there anything else you needed?" Mesh shook her head no. She thanked him for his time and stepped out into the sun again.

She gave her head a quick scratch in thought. Skingrad... Well that would just have to wait. Anvil is next on the list. She promised to help Modryn. Anvil was a good days travel away so there was no use wasting time mucking about the Imperial City.


	17. Chapter 17

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 17****  
**

**Turdas, Last Seed. 3E 432. ****  
****Anvil, Cyrodiil.**

Darrowmesh passed through Anvil's city gates dragging her feet in the dust. She could think of only one thing: Thank the Nine that last bit was all down hill. The two guards on duty barely afforded her a glance. Mesh, uncharacteristically, ignored them. She was too exhausted to be cheerful.

The evening was cooling off now that the hot summer sun had ducked below the horizon. She smiled slightly. The mage's guild and the fighter's guild were, conveniently, right in front of the main gates, side by side. Wonderful. She picked up her feet and headed towards the mage's guild. She'd check in with Azzan after a good night's sleep.

The next morning Mesh found she was one of the first out of bed. Typical, mage's don't get up early unless something needs to be done. She shrugged and scanned a bookshelf for anything interesting. She picked out a copy of "Song of the Alchemists" and sat down on a near by chair. She read the first page, flipped to the next and then the next. It really was a song… and a strange one at that.

The confusion must have been apparent on her face. She hadn't noticed, but a shadow had fallen across her.

"What's the matter?" A cheery voice asked. "Not to your liking?" Mesh looked up, or rather straight ahead, to see a Bosmer. A short mane of copper hair framed his face making it look rounder then it probably was. In the center of his face was a large hooknose. But he had a kind smile and his green eyes were friendly. Just behind him an imp bobbed up and down about two feet off the ground. The small man held a hand out to her.

"Thaurron; Journeyman of the mage's guild. Oh, and this is Sparky." He gave the imp an affectionate pat on the head. "New here aren't you? Do you like books? I like books." He leaned forward, with a smile, and tilted the book in Mesh's hand to get a look at the cover. "Alright, not that book in particular, but most books. Marc and I can talk all day about books." He would have gone on in the bubbly fashion of most Bosmer if Mesh hadn't held a hand up.

"Excuse me. I don't suppose you know where I can find the archmagister? I'm here for a recommendation."

"Oh." He looked a bit hurt that she didn't want to talk about books. "You'll be looking for Carahil. She's usually over in the lobby." He threw his thumb over his shoulder pointing towards the door. Mesh excused herself, handing the small man the book. She gave the imp, Sparky, a wide berth and made her way out to the entrance.

Around the corner she found Carahil arguing with an older looking, but well dressed, Dunmer man.

"Felen, it needs to be done. I don't have anyone else capable of enchanting since I sent Arielle and Roliand out to investigate that nest of necromancers." Carahil, an elegant Altmer woman, was leaning on the front counter. It looked as if the argument was interrupting an alchemy experiment of some kind.

"I simply don't have the time today, Carahil. I know, I know," The Dunmer man held his hands up defensively, "I know it needs to be done, but I'm helping Baeralorn up at castle Anvil with some enchanting." He shrugged and lowered his hands. Carahil looked to be quietly fuming.

"Anything I can do to help?" Mesh stepped forward into the room. Both Felen and Carahil turned to look at her. Neither looked very pleased to see her.

"Can you enchant… associate?" Carahil looked her up and down.

"Well…" The truth was yes. But how was she supposed to explain that? Volanaro had taught her a few things about enchanting, but they were mostly enchanting doorknobs to burn or freeze the hands that touched them and other… less then sophisticated tricks. "Yes… I've done a bit of enchanting." She shrugged. "What do you need enchanted?"

"The fighter's guild has commissioned us to enchant some weapons for training purposes. They want weapons that won't cut into flesh." Carahil eyed her skeptically. Felen discreetly took the opportunity to make his escape. It didn't sound to difficult.

"Sure! I think I can manage. It'll be kind of like the time we enchanted Jeanne's bed to fall through the floor- I mean…" She stammered slightly; did she just say that out loud? "Uh… I mean, I might have some experience with that sort of magic…" She smiled sheepishly and tried to look innocent. Carahil rolled her eyes.

"Go over to the fighter's guild and talk to Azzan. There's a box of soul gems there waiting for you." She took a step closer to Mesh forcing her to look up. Carahil looked down her long elegant nose and lowered her voice. "This is a very serious task. The enchantment must be anchored properly. I don't want to hear of limbs being hacked off by accident later on down the road. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." Mesh nodded and swallowed. The Altmer sure know how to look intimidating. Mesh shuddered as she stepped out into the sun. It was almost like they could do it on command. Most races came with about four facial expressions; happy, sad, angry surprised… but the Altmer had to one up everyone by adding scary-like-Oblivion. She rolled her eyes.

She pushed open the fighter's guild front door and stepped into what looked like a training area. The porter informed her that Azzan could be found in his office on the top floor. She headed up that way greeting the other members as she ran into them. She knocked lightly on the last door she came to and waited for an invitation to come in. It came, and she pushed the heavy door open.

A Redguard in steel armor was seated behind the desk. He was tossing an apple from one hand to the other while reading the latest issue of the Black Horse Courier. As she approached the desk he put the apple down and stood up.

"Ah, yes! From the mage's guild I see. You're here about those enchantments I requested aren't you?" He gave her a wide welcoming smile and pulled out a box of soul gems from somewhere under his desk.

"Yes sir, I am here to enchant some weapons for you. However, I'm also here on Modryn Oreyn's orders to get some training and to help with some basic jobs." She took the box of soul gems as they were passed to her. The box was heavier then it looked.

"Oh, well, as soon as you get us those weapons we can begin with your training." He smiled again and waved to her to follow. She struggled slightly under the weight of the box. Azzan led her back down the stairs to the training room and showed her three full weapon racks.

"These are the weapons we need enchanted. If you could enchant them so that they'll cut through everything but flesh and bone I would be very grateful. If you need anything I'll be in my office." With that he turned and left.

Mesh picked a sword from the first rack and a nice big grand soul gem from the box. She let out a soft whistle at its size. Being just an associate she didn't get to see too many soul gems like this one. Way to steep a price for her coin purse. She set the sword down in front of herself and held the gem in her left hand. She held her right hand over the blade of the sword and took a deep breath.

While she slowly exhaled she focused the magicka from the gem out her right hand and over the blade, using her upper body as a channel. As the magicka moved through her she shaped and tuned it to produce the desired result. In this case it was sort of a mix between illusion and alteration. She could feel the stones magicka vibrating through her chest and twisting with her own magicka.

The magicka that flowed from her right hand was a twisting triple helix of green light. The blade glowed green a moment, as she anchored the magic within the metal, and then returned to normal. Mesh nudged it with the toe of her boot. It slid half an inch. It seemed like a perfectly normal blade so far. She picked it up by the hilt. When she attempted to grab the blade her hand went right through and grasped at empty air. She grinned. It worked.

She picked up another sword, took a deep breath and repeated the process. Again she tested the blade and again her hand met empty air. It didn't take long for her to settle into the routine; time passed quickly and she soon ran out of weapons and soul gems. She tested each weapon before returning it to its place on the rack. Gingerly at first, not wanting to lose a limb, but then more forceful as she grew more confident in her work.

After having Azzan check the weapons over she was instructed to speak to Rhano for training. Rhano, a Redguard man wearing fur armor, was the man in charge of blade training. He had her pick out one of the blades she had just finished enchanting. She stood in from of the sword rack and looked over the selection of weapons.

"Having trouble picking out a blade?" Rhano appeared over her shoulder, apparently reading her mind. She nodded.

"Hmm… well what kind of fighting style do you want? This sword here," He pointed to an iron short sword, "You can use one handed. Short swords don't have the greatest range, but they're light and can be swung quickly. The long sword, this one here, has a better range. It's heavier, but you can still wield it one handed if you're strong enough. And this big guy here is the claymore!" He looked her up and down. "And… we're not even going to talk about that one… yet, anyway."

She rolled her eyes at him and picked out a short sword. It would do just fine. She figured her fighting style would be to stand back and lob fireballs from a distance. A sword would be more of a last, and desperate, oh so very desperate, resort. Rhano gave her a nod and pointed to a section of floor in front of him. Mesh stood there, sword at her side.

Rhano spaced his legs to about shoulder width and bent his knees, keeping his feet centered under his weight. He waved his hand motioning her to mimic his stance. The afternoon was spent in training. Rhano would show her different ways of flicking her wrists and throwing her weight around. The sword held its enchantment beautifully, a fact that Mesh was very grateful for. If it weren't for that enchantment Rhano would have hacked her to bits.

She spent a good many weeks training like this with Rhano. Occasionally Huurwen, a Bosmer woman with short military style hair and iron armor would teach her a thing or two about blocking. When she grew sick of iron and steel she would spend a couple days at the mage's guild with Felen mixing potions, or at the chapel earning a few septims as a healer.


	18. Chapter 18

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 18****  
**

**Morndas, Frostfall. 3E 432. ****  
****Anvil, Cyrodiil.**

The fighter's guildhall foyer was still quiet when Mesh checked in. She rubbed her hands together quickly to fight off the early morning chill. A bit of practice with her blade would warm her up. She picked out one of the enchanted training blades and went to work hacking at the wooden dummy suspended in the center of the room.

The noise attracted the attention of the porter, Gerich. He poked his head into the room and waved.

"Good morning to you, Darrowmesh. Your swing is coming along nicely. When you get a moment Azzan is looking for you. He's up in his office." He smiled mischievously and disappeared around the corner again. Mesh returned the training sword to the rack and took the stairs two at a time up to the office. What could Azzan need her for?

The door was open so she just walked in. Azzan was flipping through some papers on his desk. He smiled when he noticed her enter.

Darrowmesh, good to see you up and training so early! Come in, come in; I have something for you." He waved her into a seat opposite his desk and sat down himself. Mesh took the offered seat and looked up at the man with curiosity. He waved a piece of parchment through the air lazily and gave her a crooked grin.

"I think it's time to send you out on a contract." He chuckled a bit at the excited look on her face. "Mind you, it's nothing too big. I need you to deliver this batch of skins to the Kvatch guildhall. I'm not sure if you were aware of it, but they make some of the finest leather armor in all of Cyrodiil." He handed her the piece of parchment. It was some kind of release form.

"Go down to the warehouse on the docks, that slip of paper will get you the shipment. Then take it up to Do'Zhirr; he's head of the guild chapter in Kvatch. I think he has a small job for you to do as well. Think you can handle that?" He raised an eyebrow at her still grinning.

"Yes sir! Not a problem." Her face felt like it was going to split in two she was grinning so much. Ha ha! A contract at last. Maybe she'd even get to swing her sword.

Things weren't going quite the way she had expected them to go down on the docks. Though, it was partially her fault that she wasn't recognized as a fighter's guild member. She was rather small for a warrior, dressed in a shabby associate's robe with a steel short sword at her hip.

"Look missy; I don' know whatcher playin' at, but ya don' look like any fighter I've ever met." The hulking Nord looked her up and down with one eye and spat off the side of the dock. He crossed his massive arms in front of his equally massive chest and stood there as impassable as any stonewall in the empire.

"Look! Look right here." She waved the paper in front of him furiously, "I have the release form right here! Now hand over the shipment!" She gave the dock a good stomp and tried to look as menacing as possible.

"Stolen. Ya couldda stole that." He gave one nod of his head and remained firm.

"What!?! You have got to be kidding me!" Her arms exploded above her head and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "All right, all right… Let's look at this using your reasoning. You're suggesting that I'm not, in fact, a warrior, correct?" She folded her own arms and gave the man a look of pure contempt while waiting for his reply. He nodded.

"All right then." She continued, "I'm not a warrior, yet I was able to break into the fighter's guild, I was then able to make it past all the members, each one an experienced warrior. I was then able to get into the office and steal papers from the guild-head, a very large Redguard in steel armor... All this for a shipment of skins. Skins! This is what you're implying?" The look of contempt deepened. The Nord looked at her and blinked. Mesh got the feeling he was trying very hard to think. She expected smoke to pour out his ears at any moment.

"… Well… when ya put it tha' way…" He had a very blank look across his rather ugly features as he tried to work the puzzle out.

"Now." Mesh lowered her voice and stretched the words out as if talking to a child. She held the paper out in front of the man. "About that shipment. May I please have it… _now_?" She smiled sweetly up at the man. By the Nine, either he gives me that shipment or I shove a fireball up his nose!

**Morndas, Frostfall. 3E 432. ****  
****Chorrol, Cyrodiil.**

Modryn kicked a small stone as he walked up the Black Road towards Chorrol. He had spent the previous day in the Imperial City placing orders in the market district. He took a deep breath filling his lungs with the crisp morning air. He had lived in the Imperial City once. City air was never this fresh, all those people crammed together. It wasn't for him.

He came around the corner by the North Country Stables and noticed Viranus and Eduard working with the guild's horses. The two spotted him and waved a good morning. He waved back and sighed. He felt bad about Viranus. It's been more then a month and still Vilena refused to allow him to cover even the simplest of contracts.

Stepping into the guildhall, he was met by the loud chatter of the two Orc brothers Kurz and Lum gro-Baroth. He gave them both a nod and sat down at the table with his books. He wasn't seated long before an Imperial man came stomping in through the door.

"Who's in charge here?!? I demand to speak to your guild master. I have half a mind to take my business to the Blackwood Company." He was waving his arms around as he spoke and stomping about the foyer. If it didn't sound like a botched contract Modryn would have found the man's manner amusing. But it did sound like a botched contract, something Modryn took very seriously.

"The guild master isn't in at the moment, sir. Perhaps I can help you?" He gestured to a seat at the table and gave the two Orcs standing by the wall a glare that sent them scurrying to the basement. The Imperial gave the chair a look of disgust and launched into a rather loud rant.

"Help me? Help me?!? You were supposed to help me months ago!" Again he was waving his arms about madly and pacing the room. "I contracted you to find one fetching journal. A journal! From a cave. Not a fortress, not the plains of Oblivion itself… no. A. Cave." He slammed his hands down on the table and leveled Modryn with a glare. Modryn stared back emotionless; at least outwardly he showed no emotion. Inwardly he was seething with rage. Maglir.

"Brenus Astis, isn't it? A journal from Fallen Rock Cave?" Modryn shuffled through the clipboards a moment and found what he was looking for. Damn. He cursed himself. He should have caught this a long time ago. He'd sent Maglir out to find that journal months ago. With everything that's been happening he'd just taken it for granted that contracts were being completed.

"Not just a journal, Dunmer, my work. My life. How am I supposed to continue with my research on the local fauna without my notes? I'm a scholar! I need my notes!" The man was getting louder with each word. Modryn stood up and nodded his understanding.

"Yes, of course I understand your need to continue with your research. No doubt it's very important work that will one day benefit us all. I'll have someone look into it right away." He started pushing the man towards the door. He needed to yell at someone and he didn't want it to be a client.

"See that you do! Next time I'll be taking my business to the Blackwood Company, assuming that I don't do that with this one!" The man was still yelling when Modryn closed the door. He slammed his head against the doorframe, grinding his teeth. Maglir, the little fetcher.

Argh! The guild can't afford this kind of slip up. Not now, not with the rise of the Blackwood Company in Cyrodiil. Modryn sat down heavily and dug his fingers into his mohawk. I don't need this right now; I don't need this right now! He gave his books a crippling death glare and pulled them over, roughly opening the pages.

All right… who's available to cover for the fetcher of a new boot? The two Orcs? No, they already had three contracts each. He went down the list of names. Nobody. There was Viranus… but the guild master would have his head for that. He could do it himself. And he'd tear Maglir to shreds while he was at it. But with the guild master still on leave he couldn't be accepting contracts.

He ran his finger down the columns of the other guildhalls around Cyrodiil. The situation was the same with just about all of them. Anvil had a few new boots still in training. Ugh… One new boot covering for another? Is that really a smart idea? Again he ran a hand through his mohawk; he didn't really have a choice.

Modryn pulled a blank piece of parchment from his book and dipped his quill into the ink. He scratched out a quick message to Azzan asking him to send one of the new members over for duties, preferably a semi-well trained member; and to have them report as soon as absolutely possible.

Modryn sat back and re-read his note. He sighed. It would have to do. He pushed his chair back and hollered up the stairs.

"Rene? Get down here, will you?" He tapped his foot impatiently as he listened to the porter shuffle his way to the stairs slowly.

"Something I can help you with Modryn?" He asked lazily.

"Yes. Yes there is something you can help me with" He snapped, "I need this delivered to the Anvil guildhall. Now. Come ON! Move faster." He snapped his fingers at the surprised man to speed him up.

"Take the guild's black horse. Ride as fast as you can. Leave that armor here. No don't argue with me. Go! Now!" Modryn shoved the stuttering man out the door. He paced the room a couple times half expecting his new boot to walk through the door. He had to take a few deep breaths before he could sit down. It wouldn't be until tomorrow evening at the absolute earliest that he'd see anyone walk through that door.

He let his head fall to the tabletop. It stung his forehead where he'd already thrown it against the doorframe earlier. He stuck his arm back and blindly fished through the bottle rack for an ale. It was going to be a long and frustrating wait.


	19. Chapter 19

**A Mages Web. ****  
****Chapter 19****  
**

**Morndas, Frostfall. 3E 432. ****  
****Kvatch, Cyrodiil.**

Mesh passed through the gates of Kvatch and marveled at the city. It was beautiful. Kvatch had a reputation for being a beautiful city, but she had no idea… She was so busy marveling at the scenery that she walked straight into a lamppost. She dropped the roll of skins on the ground and staggered back. All right, that was stupid. She rubbed her white nose and bent to pick up the mess of skins on the ground. A couple guards had rushed over to help her out. She sighed. First impressions, you know…

"Are you alright Miss?" One of the guards asked her, concern written across his face. His chain mail armor glinted in the sun as he bent down to help collect the skins strewn about the ground.

"Ah… yes, I'm alright, thank you." She nodded a thanks. The two guards helped her wrap the skins up again and sent her off with a warning to pay more attention to where she was going. She rubbed her nose. That had really hurt.

She made it the rest of the way to the fighter's guild in one piece. The buildings in Kvatch looked a lot like the buildings in Cheydinhal, slightly less decorative, but they were built taller, like in Bravil. She pulled the brass handle of the guildhall door and stepped through. The floor had a rich red carpet and the walls were lined with decorative brass sconces. It was one of the most well lit halls she's been in thus far.

"Can I help you?" A raspy voice hissed from behind her causing her to jump. She turned around to find a smiling Khajiit. "I see you've come from Anvil with our shipment of skins. Welcome guild sister. I am Do'Zhirr, guild head of this chapter."

"Thank you. Beautiful guildhall you have here by the way! Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?" She shook the Khajiit's hand and gave him the roll of skins she had strapped to her back.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is some small matter you can help me with, I'm afraid it isn't much. I need these arrows and potions taken out to Belletor's Folly. You would have passed it on your way up; it's a small mine infested with bandits and creatures. Most of my men are in there trying to clear it out. They've requested more arrows and a batch of healing potions." He gestured over his shoulder to a pack and several quivers of arrows.

"I don't want you to join the fight, you understand? It's too dangerous for someone with you skill level. I just want you to deliver the items and then come back." He placed a hand on her shoulder and leveled her with a very serious look. She squirmed slightly under his touch but nodded her understanding.

She swung the pack gently to her back, careful not to jostle the bottles too much and slipped the quivers over her shoulder. There was a lot of weight there, but she didn't have far to go. Do'Zhirr opened the door for her and she headed back towards the city gates. She gave the two helpful guards a wave on her way out.

It was actually a nice walk down the hill to the mine. The cool mountain air felt lovely on her cheeks and the trees were showing off their brilliantly coloured leaves in the light breeze. Every now and then a stronger gust of wind would make its way through the trees and send a shower of yellow, orange and red leaves dancing across her path. The mountain road twisted down the rock face granting her a gorgeous view of the Gold Coast, and beyond that, Valenwood and Elsweyr.

She arrived at the mine and opened the old worn out door. A few torches burned here and there, but it was fairly dim. She could hear the sound of fighting further down the tunnels, but it was quiet in the chamber she had entered.

"Hello?" She called softly into the darkness, "Hello… is anyone there? I have your arrows and potions… Hello?" She stepped further in. Was she supposed to just leave the stuff there at the door or did she need to deliver it to a guild member. She forgot to ask. She passed a hand through her messy white hair and wondered what to do. She shrugged and continued down the tunnel slowly.

Eventually the torches came further and further apart so she cast a quick light spell. A dim ball of green light appeared in her hand. She looked around and grimaced slightly. The sounds of battle were getting louder and still she hadn't come across any of her guild brothers. She was getting nervous.

Save for the distant sound of fighting the cave tunnel was rather quiet. There were the usual noises, dripping water, small stones sliding from the walls and ceiling, and strange echoes. But there was something else, something out of place somehow.

"Hello? I have your supplies." She called out softly. Her feet crunched along the loose gravel. After a few moments she began to get the strange feeling that something else was in that tunnel with her. She stopped a moment to listen. She turned her head to look over her shoulder a moment. Nothing. She shrugged and continued; maybe it was just her nerves or the wind playing tricks on her. But then she stopped again. There it was. There was a second set of footsteps mimicking hers, but they were slightly off. A chill went up her spine.

She began walking faster; the footsteps kept pace with her. She broke into a run but didn't make it far. A large set of dirty hands grabbed her from behind and spun her around. She threw her hand out with a searing grasp spell. A piercing scream echoed through the tunnel. A Nord man stumbled back clutching his side where she had touched him. She could see the glint of blood on his hands in the dim glow of her weak light spell.

As the man stumbled back she had a moment to look him over. His dark hair was matted down. Either he had dunked his head in a bucket of sticky water or he was covered in blood and sweat; she doubted it was the former of the two. His face was filthy with blood, dirt and dust. It looked like he was caught in a cave in or something. As he stumbled to his feet she noticed he was limping a bit.

Mesh dropped what she was carrying and pulled her short sword from its resting place at her hip. She was ready this time. The massive man snarled and pulled out a very large axe. It would be hard to swing that thing in here, not to mention the man was injured, it would be hard to do anything with the damage she had done to his side.

Mesh checked her options; the tunnel was too narrow to be casting ranged spells and with that axe she wouldn't be able to cast a touch spell, well, not without losing her arm anyway. She would have to rely on the sword, but she only had a months training in with it.

The man grinned at her, a wicked curled grin; he realized he had her cornered. He lunged clumsily, launching himself from one foot. He swung high for her head. He was counting on her being inexperienced; she certainly didn't look like a warrior, she wasn't even wearing armor. She ducked under the attack and spun around behind him, dragging her sword across his belly, just under the bottom of his fur cuirass, as she went. The man let out a howl and dropped to the floor screaming. Mesh plunged her sword down through the top of his skull, the screaming stopped.

She wiped her hands off on her robe and yanked the sword from the man's skull, cleaning it off on his shirt. She picked up the supplies, now dotted with blood, and continued. She kept the sword in hand.

She rounded a corner and found what looked like a small encampment. There was a cluster of men and women in steel armor. They had a make shift table set up with a few charts spread out. Now were these her guild mates or more bandits? The bandit had fur armor, these men had steel; she decided to take her chances with them.

"Hello?" She asked tentatively stepping into the light. The entire group rounded on her. She had more pointy things aimed at her then she cared to count.

"Who are you?" One large Imperial man asked, giving her a suspicious look.

"I'm Darrowmesh, I'm from the fighter's guild!" She saw the hesitation on their faces and decided since she wasn't already dead that these must be her guild mates. "Do'Zhirr sent me in with some supplies, arrows and potions." She swung the pack down gently and laid the arrows against the tunnel wall. The group of warriors sheathed their weapons and apologized for the less then friendly welcome.

"Sorry about that guild sister. We lost a couple of the bandits during a cave in so we're a bit jumpy. I'm Jonus Inian by the way." The Imperial shook her hand and waved her into the camp. He gave her a curious look.

"You're covered in blood…" He waggled a finger at her stained robe.

"Uh… yes. Well. I met one of those bandits you lost from before. I'm fine, I'm fine!" She held her hands up and smiled when she saw the worried look on Jonus' face. "The blood's not mine." She grinned proud of herself for being able to take down one of the bandits, even if he was injured before hand.

"Oh! Are you here to join the fight then too?" Jonus raised an eyebrow at her in question. Mesh shook her head no and explained what had happened. Jonus nodded and was about to dismiss her, but she cut him off.

"You needed potions? Is someone hurt?" She held her hands out and raised an eyebrow. The group looked confused a moment before realizing the blood spattered robe was the robe of a mage. Jonus passed her off to a Redguard woman. The woman had the sack of potions slung over one shoulder. She tossed her head forward motioning Mesh to follow.

"Hi there, I'm Minia. We don't get too many mages join the guild. What's your story?" She shot Mesh a friendly smile over her shoulder and led her to a corner with a couple men laying asleep in bedrolls.

"Oh, um. I met Modryn Oreyn and he said he needed more members, so I offered to help out. He didn't seem too thrilled with me signing up though." She shrugged and began casting blue ribbons of healing magic around the first of the two forms. Minia laughed.

"Oreyn is never thrilled with anything. You'll get used to him though, not a bad guy really." Minia set the bottles in the corner to be used later and helped Mesh tend to the two injured men. They weren't too bad, nothing worse then a couple broken ribs.

"Oh, I don't mind him so much, pass me those bandages, will you please? Thank you. He's kind of funny… well once he leaves the room and the initial fear wears off anyway." Mesh smiled at Minia as she bandaged up a broken arm. Minia laughed and shook her head.

"Well you've got guts to be chatting it up with Oreyn when there are… quieter and friendlier people to be talking to, I'll give you that much." Minia smiled back and gave her charge a consoling pat on the shoulder. The poor man rolled his eyes at having to listen too two chatting women.

She spent an hour with the injured members and chatting with Minia before heading back out. The early afternoon sun was most welcome when Mesh emerged from the mine. She was spotted with blood and dust; but satisfied at a job well done.


End file.
